The Greatest Weakness
by Red Head the Girl
Summary: The greatest weakness lies in giving up... - While war will soon break out on the lands of Sinnoh between the league and a group of deadly extremists, Ash is thrown into the middle of a conflict that might end the world as he knows it. DARK fic. Violent.
1. Prolouge

**A/N:** Finally, after having this idea in my head for way too much time (seriously, I can't remember when I got this in my head.) I finally have figured out a complete plot, and have finally have written this out. Now I just have to hope that others reading it like it as well, and hopefully like it and even review. Rated M for violence most of all. You might not understand this prologue fully, but all will be explained in the rest of the story (if you stay to read it :]). I hope you enjoy!

It might be pretty obvious, but I don't own pokemon.

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**Prologue**

* * *

The wind blew the snow down the mountain.

This was a cold and ruthless mountain, allowing only the strongest of its pokemon inhabitants up its slippery slopes. Despite this, the tip of Sinnoh's tallest mountain was almost always desolate.

But something was off.

In the sky, unusual grey clouds poured their snow down through the mount, creating an odd circular formation of black and dark grey clouds, its center steady above the peak. This desolate place was no longer empty.

"You are wrong." A man said.

A boy lay face- first in the rock floor, the snow beneath him sloshed into colors of brown and gray. His hair covered his bruised face, sticking in sweaty clumps to his forehead, despite the biting cold. Slowly, his chest rose up and down.

"No, I was never wrong."

The boy forced himself up, body moving in jearky movements. He remained on his knees, eyes filled with sorrow to the brim, pleading, begging.

"You don't understand," The man held, his emotionless voice struggling to stay monotone. "You are young, and still filled with hope. You couldn't understand."

And in his shaking hands, a gun.

The boy gave a miserable laugh.

A weak smile crossed his lips, before tears slipped down his face.

A sharp pucturing sensation burned his lungs. Doubling over in a coughing fit, his blood sputtering onto the snow in thick blotches and onto his hands. Shaking, he looked up to face the man above him. A sad smile crossed his lips once again, blood down a corner of his chin.

"How could you say that?" He whipped the blood off with his forearm. "Every terrible thing, that I thought nobody was capable of, has been done to me." He wobbled to his feet. The man cocked the gun and lifted it up, pointed towards the boy.

For the boy to be lying seemed impossible. Dark circles seemed almost permanent around his eyes, his pale skin marked with blue and purple bruises, His hair matted with blood and specks of dirt. He stood, every muscle stiff and strained.

The man was supposed to shoot the boy, kill him and destroy all danger that might stand in the way.

But why was he hesitating?

A dreadful wail came from the dragon above them. In a floating airborne island machine, Dialga screeched, incapacitated. A terrible Monster, with no shape or form, neither liquid o gas, hovered over it. A smoky beast, intertwined in the floating island, somehow hurting the deity.

The dark haired boy pressed his hands to his ears, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. His vison seemed to take a swing, sending his head into swirls.

"Don't you see?" He ignored the feeling, teeth gritted together. He opened his eyes, looking up at the man.

He could almost feel the boy drilling holes into his eyes with that cold, desperate look.

"I should be in your shoes!" He turned to look down Mt. Coronet. Below them, tiny orange dots could be seen. Snowpoint City on fire.

He served his neck back to face the older man. "I should be the one who would encourage you the most! I should be the one that has lost all hope in this world!"

The wind wiped at his hair, almost sending him off balance. Another screeching, machine like scream was emitted from the deity. Besides it, on another airborne ship, was the gigantic Palkia, limp against it laser steel prison.

"Please," He stumbled forward. "You have to believe in me."

He grasped at the man's coat, his hands numb from the freezing cold, gloveless. The man dropped his gun from his shaking hands, his heart skipping at beat. It fell and slid down the snowy trail.

"Why? Why do you say this?" the gray haired forced off with one strong push. Knocked down once again, he cryed out as he flattened to the ground. This time he remained on his side, unable to get up. He inhaled in agitated breaths.

"You have no reason to believe in good. It's a trickery of emotions." He added, convince

Yet he had never been this nervous before, standing there, panting in heavy breaths. In his pocket, a silver orb that controlled the smoke monster above them.

"I do…" the boy croaked.

There was a strange moment, which Cyrus believed the boy in front of him. The wind whistled, icy cold between them, and blew the snow down to Snowpoint. He was reminded of his grandfather.

"I know that there is good…" The boy struggled, now shaking visibly, just only able to lift himself up. He slipped onto his knees.

"I can still see it; please, Cyrus…" There was so little fight left in him. "Tell me you can see it too, and stop this…"

He hadn't even realized it, but in his hand, the orb. Cyrus suddenly hesitated.

There was another type of scream above them. The smoke monster had stopped. Still, appearing like blood in water before it is mixed into the liquid, it remained. Somewhere from it, a strange moan-like scream:

"Uuuuuugggghhhhh…"

The boy screamed, covering his ears once more, a sob of melancholy escaping him. A sudden sense of failure overcame him, and he was broken.

"Oh Mew, please!" He opened his tear-filled large blue eyes, and looked at Cyrus. In his head, a voice telling him: _you are scum, you are scum and you failed them all_.

"Cyrus, you'll regret this, please." He could hear people screaming his name in the background, knowing they were too late. Behind him, he could feel another presence walking up to him.

"I know you must still see it." He supplicated, his hands coming to a place in his chest, where underneath his clothes lay a tattered ying-yang necklace.

"Cyrus?" Somebody asked, calm, from behind. The boy's breath hitched into his throat, heart jumping inside of his chest, deafening.

A storm started brewing above the tip of Mt. Coronet.

"Let me get rid of this nuisance for you," the silk voice of a younger man said.

The boy breathed out franaticly, closing his eyes. With one hand, he wipped his tears off his checks in swift repetitive motions. Lighting crackled. He had failed.

There was a clicking sound, and a loud bang.

His eyes shot open, and the boy fell forward, down on his face. He lay limp, a bullet hole in between his shoulder blades. Blood seeped free from a hole in his sweater's fabric.

Cyrus stood, eyes wide.

"Let's get to this, Cyrus." The other man said. A smoking gun was in his hand.

Cyrus turned his back to him and looked at the sky were the storm was developing, hesitation, for the first time, in his heart.

"So this is it." He spoke, his voice no longer emotionless. The other man furrowed his brow, surprised by the change in his voice. He sneered.

"There is no time left, we must do this."

The younger man lifted his hand to the air, another silver orb in his palm. The smoke monster cried in delight in its almost human moan. The storm cloud was now violent with lightning.

It started descending in a thin trail, towards the tip of the mountain.

Dialga had stopped screeching.

Underneath the boy, blood added to the stains in the snow. His eyelids fluttered, and hidden behind his hair, his eyes glowed like a two beams. Inside him there was an intense burning, is every essence screaming out in pain and failure, his emotions of fear and complete exhaustion were choking.

But now, there was more.

Above the three of them, and of all Sinnoh, the sky ripped open with a tremendous roar.


	2. Syncronization

I rewrote this chapter since I hated it so much. To my dismay, I realized I posted an unedited version of the prologue. I fixed a few things, but I might of left a few loose ends.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter One: Synchronization

* * *

_Several months earlier…_

It was darker than usual that night.

There was a rocky path leading into a dusky cave. It would have been the ideal den of a wild pokemon, a safe place for its young, had it not been occupied otherwise. Deep inside, a lone miner worked. Unaware of the time, he was illuminated only by the artificial light of his neon lamp.

"We're done."

Stiff, he pulled himself up from his crouching position. His slipped his chisel into his belt while his pokemon grunted in approval.

"Geo!" The rough Geodude hovered by his side, accompanying him as they walked the path out of the cave.

Roark stalked the darkness of the mines, unaffected, muscles with a slight strained from the extensive excavating work.

"It's late," He turned his head back and forth, in the search for fellow excavator, yet none were in sight. "Everybody has left."

Oreburgh was just over the mines, and you could see the city lights past the big construction machines. Wondering the time, he stole a glance at his watch. A feeling of tiredness dawned upon him. His shoulders slumped, and over the mines, the prospect of returning home to a bed was rather welcoming.

Midnight.

Roark let out a loud yawn, followed by a long stretch to his arms. It seemed like a calm night.

But underneath his feet, the earth began to rumble, soft. It went unnoticed to the tired Roark, and even more to the Geodude, who floated along. Instead, he examined the freshly excavated fossil he had work on all day.

But the rumbling grew louder, and the ground started shaking.

He stopped in his tracks, freezing in place, Geodude growling. For a second, he wondered why the ground was moving. Then, the slight shaking turned into violent swaying, forcing Roark to fall to the floor.

A sudden fear gripped him somewhere in the chest.

Was Oreburgh being hit by an earthquake?

There was no such earthquake. Instead, a mighty drill burst out one of the walls of the mountainside, chucking pieces of rock and stone to whatever direction the drill rotated to with a loud mechanical roar.

"Geodude! Help!" Roark dropped the fossil from his hands, and raised his arm up to shield his face as he slid from side to side from the tremors.

The floating pokemon, unaffected from the earthquake, wrapped his rocky hands around his trainer's arm, dragging him behind, moments before the drilling vehicle fell free from its hole. It landed just where Roark had been.

The fossil, left behind, was crushed underneath the vehicle's wheels.

The drill wheeled forward, almost appearing to crawl it way out of the rubble it had made. Ahead of it, a large construction setting made for the processing of coal. With of last twist, the drill reached leveled floor, riding until it came to a halting crash with the coal machinery.

A few moments later, the drill stopped it ruckus. The horn stopped turning.

Roark laid stunned on the ground, ears ringing. He stared at the spot where the fossil had been. The specks of its remains had fallen away by the trembling produced by the machine.

While his shock faded away, a sort of door burst open on the roof of the vehicle. Moving quickly, two uniformed silhouettes jumped out of the vehicle and onto the ground. They scrambled towards a pile of rocks, before throwing their pokeball into the air. A bronzor and a toxicroak materialized before them.

Roark, with ears ringing, swayed onto his unsteady shaking legs, Geodude still grasping his arm in support.

Without even hearing his own voice through the ringing, he shouted.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?"

Out of the two figures that had come out of the vehicle, one was a woman, ordering her bronzor to move the rocks. The other was a man, who had odd blue hair, with a strange device in his hand, similar to a radio. It beeped loudly, and behind him the toxicroak tagged along.

The two Pokemon had already settled in removing the rocks from a pile. The bronzer, glowing blue, lifting large rocks with its psychic mind, while the toxicroak plainly lifted them up and threw aside.

His words were ignored by the two. Shock settling into anger, He charged forward.

"Geodude, stop them!"

The woman turned around to face him.

"You keep looking," She said to her companion, who along with his Toxicroak kept digging. "I'll take care of this."

"Bronzor!" She called. The coin pokemon dropped a rock from mid air, and turned lazily toward the Geodude.

In an instant, the Geodude was already on the bronze disc-like pokemon, wrestling it down to the ground.

"Bronzor, use Gyro Ball!" The blue Pokemon glowed violent with a white light. A moment later, the Geodude was blasted off the coin pokemon, a burn upon his face. "Now, Confuse Ray!"

"Geodude, watch out!" Roark warned, but it was too late. The Geodude was caught upon the sensory waves of the attack. The latter jerked around in the air, its rocky hands tearing at itself. It fell to the ground and twisted around, dust lifting into the air.

Roark returned his pokemon, surprised, watching as the woman approached him.

"You better not come in our way; This is bigger than a pathetic gym leader."

He felt anger boil in his chest, but was unsure what to do next. The rest of his pokemon were back home. He opened his mouth to respond back, but was left unsure of what to say.

"Bronzor, get rid him."

He widened his eyes, before starting to back away from the small floating pokemon.

"What?" He muttered. "You can't do that, this is wrong!"

The Pokemon started glowing-

There was a screech from the sky, interrupting the Bronzor. The three humans present covered their ears. Roark squeezed his eyes shut, cringing at the sound. Above them, the little moonlight that lighted the mines was covered.

A large dragon made its way down, the moon hidden behind its back. Roark looked up, and struggled to withhold a gasp.

He had seen one of those revived from a fossil before!

"I-I found it, Mars!" He man that was digging through the rocks called. His eyes watched the dragon, unsure. In his hands he was holding a rag, which was wrapped around something Roark couldn't see.

The Aerodactyl landed rather ungracefully onto the coal machinery, its claws grasping the metal construction as a perch. Its wings were uncomfortably stretched, as it screeched once more.

Mars cursed loudly, steeping back from the dragon's shadow.

"You found it a little too late!"

From the Aerodactyl's back jumped off a man, his cape billowing behind him. Landing gracefully to the floor, knees bent and a hand placed forward on the ground to not fall on his face, his red hair was pushed back by the wind.

He stood. "Aerodactyl, use Supersonic."

Without leaving its perch, the scaly gray creature opened its strong maw, and cried loudly. Blue psychic circles burst forwards, hitting the Bronzor, which had been paralyzed in fear. The uniformed woman stared dumbstruck as the coin Pokemon began to wobble around the air.

Roark felt like laughing at the strange irony.

Returning the pokemon, she called out to her companion. "Let's go!"

Recalling the toxicroak back into its ball, he bolted towards the drill. The man raced after him.

Reaching for his collar, the red-headed man pulled the other back with a hard yank. Delivering a hard punch the man's face, the latter crumpled in his hold, dropping the rag from his hand.

The man dropped the uniformed blue haired man, who landed on the rocky ground, spluttering blood from his mouth. He cursed and grasped his now bloody nose.

The dragon owner stalked towards Roark.

The woman bolted back, sprinting towards the gates of the mines. Soon she was out of sight, escaped.

Roark shifted backward, unsure whether this man was going to attack him. He felt himself almost tripping on something.

Looking down, he found his foot next to a white orb, which shone from a light inside of it. It looked as it was filled with smoke. It had a smooth surface, appearing almost like a crystal ball, the future hidden inside its smoky capsule…

"If you don't mind, would you step away from the orb next to your foot?"

Roark jumped, accidentally kicking the orb, startled from the man's voice. He had been momentarily entranced by the shinning orb.

It rolled forward, and the red-headed dragon owner grabbed it with a gloved hand before it rolled anywhere further.

Behind them, the uniformed grunt got to his feet, his hand pressed to his lip. He climbed the drilling vehicle.

"Sir, He's getting away!" Roark pointed out unsure, intimidated by the man.

He raised his eyebrows and turned to look at the drill. The man had made it inside, and the engine was roaring to life.

"It's ok." He said, "I just needed to stop them from getting this."

He looked back at the orb, hard brown eyes softening in its sight. It seemed to almost glow in the night, a light white light emitted from its core.

The man shook his head, almost shaking himself off, and wrapped in a cloth taken from his pocket.

In his belt, the same radio-like device the blue haired man had beeped until it seemed to flat line. The man switched it off.

The vehicle detached itself from the coal machinery, allowing it to collapse down onto the mountain side. The Aerodactyl screeched, wings flapping. It lifted itself into the air, losing its perch.

"Return." The red laser dissolved the dragon into its pokeball in its master's hand.

The drill disappeared through the hole it came from.

"Uh," Roark shifted, uncomfortable, realizing how bizarre the whole situation all was. "Who are you?"

The man looked him in eye, the examining him closely. After the inspection, he poised his sharp eyes elsewhere.

"My name is Lance," He explained, before putting the now wrapped orb into the messenger bag hidden behind his cape. "I'm the Jhoto and Kanto Champion."

A sense of understanding washed over Roark. Of course a champion would come to sort out vandalizing criminals! But…

"I'm sorry if I might ask, but what were those guys doing?"

Lance glanced warily on at the hole left in the wall.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Roark." His presentation felt bland in comparison. "I'm the leader of the Oreburgh gym as well!" he added, pushing back his glasses.

"Roark…" Lance repeated, lifting his eyes up towards the sky. "You from here, Roark?"

He nodded, put off by the random question.

"I would explain, since you have the right to know why your city was attacked," He said, voice velvety and soothing. Roark felt somehow derided from his stature. "Yet, I have very little time, and I must get to Sandgem, and I'm afraid that I don't know the way."

He pulled out a tattered map from his messenger bag. He looked at it, unaware of holding it backwards, confused. This looked out of place out of place for such a 'great' trainer.

"I can show you the way!" Roark blurted out, unable to stop himself. Deep inside, the need to be up to a champion's expectations clawed at his needs. Besides, it had been embarrassing enough to be needed to be saved from a mere bronzor.

"You're holding it backwards, Sir.

Lance raised his eyebrows. He folded the map.

"Isn't it far from here?" He stuffed the map back into the bag.

"Well, it's out a few routes away. An old professor, a friend of mine, lives there" Roark explained. Incredible curiosity drew him in. What could possibly bring a foreign Champion to the lands of Sinnoh?

"Professor Rowan?" Lance eyes widen. "I'm actually going to Sandgem to see a professor."

"Oh yes, Professor Rowan." Roark drew his arm forward, leading the way to Oreburgh. Lance followed.

"Don't you have gym leading duties?"

"Actually, none of my pokemon are with me." He explained. "The Sinnoh championship will be held in a few months. It's Kill Time. All the trainers have run out of time to collect badges, and now have the time to train."

"I see…"

They walked under the mines' gate. With a heavy heart, Roark turned to face the destruction left behind. The anger from before returned.

"I must know why such destruction was bought upon this place." He gripped his hand's closed, knuckles turning white. "This place is my home."

Lance kept on walking, but a trace of hesitation could be seen of his handsome face.

Finally, he spoke.

"Do you know about, team Galactic?" He asked, looking at Roark over his shoulder.

Roark nodded. "Not much, but I have heard. They've been havocking museums and ruins."

"Well, we have reasons to believe that their plans are much bigger than havocking historical places."

"Does it have to do with that stone you took from those people?" Roark inquired, catching up with the champion. "Were they Galactic members?"

"I shall explain on the way." Lance looked determined. Behind him, his cape billowed beneath the night wind. "But if you must come to show me the way, you must bring your stronger Pokemon."

Roark must have put on a questioning face, for Lance answered his unspoken question.

"I'm afraid this attack is nothing to worry about. I fear greater trouble is headed this way." Lance sighed, unsure of how to continue. "The night is darker than before and evil seems to be stalking at every corner. I can tell, my Pokemon feel it."

* * *

There was a very big corporation named Steel.

While many people believed Pokétch was the main company ruling over Sinnoh, many people were wrong.

Where did such technologies, such building with such advanced structure, come from?

Jubilife City was the main example of this. It was the most technologically advanced city in Sinnoh; examples such as the Global Terminal and the T.V. station were only there to prove it.

In fact, most of these technological building were designed and built by one specific company.

A few miles away from Oreburgh, a grey limousine stopped sleekly in front of the Global Trade Center. Its driver scurried out of the front door quickly, reaching to open the door to whoever was in the backseat.

The streets were empty at this time of night. The street was lit by the light of the building's lobby, which was empty as well, save a few workers.

A business man elegantly slipped out of the car, stalking through the door of the center.

A petite, looking woman sat behind the counter. She rested her head on her hand, propped up by one elbow. Sleep tugged at her eyelids.

"I need to know where the Steel office is."

A stern voice woke her from her daze. Looking down on her was a man with powerful shoulders and a fierce dark face.

She shot up from her position, mumbling a few moments before scrambling to grab the phone. His glare didn't leave her.

"Who shall I announce?" She asked timidly.

"Cyrus."

She blinked, waiting for a last name, but proceeded to announce the man as soon as she realized that he wouldn't say such.

"Go ahead to the elevator, sir. It's the fifteenth floor. The office takes up that whole floor."

Once in the elevator, the woman let out a sigh of relief.

With a small bell sound, the elevator opened to the fifteenth floor. There was a small reception to his left, where a much more awake, sleeker woman was seated behind.

"Please, go ahead into the office, Mr. Cyrus."

He nodded in courtesy, and in a few strides he reached a door that lead to the main office. Cyrus pushed the door open.

Greeted by a majestic view of Jubilife city's night life, he made forward to the desk.

"Cyrus, a pleasure to finally meet you."

A young man sat in the chair behind the desk. He had rich caramel eyes behind sleek, thin glasses, his brown dark hair styled back.

Cyrus raised his thick eyebrows.

"I thought I had a meeting with Mr. Steel himself."

"Mr. Steel couldn't make it tonight," He motioned the chair in front of the desk. Cyrus hesitated before sitting. "Steel Corporation is already an international business, thus being very difficult for him to manage himself alone. I am here for those cases, like now. "

"Where is he now?"

"He's at a conference in Goldenrod," The young man gathered some papers together. "He just allowed a new technology to be installed in their railroading system."

Cyrus nodded, eyeing the folders stacked on a side.

Noticing this, the younger man proceeded.

"My name is Julius Long" He held his hand out. Cyrus shook it firmly. "Shall we continue on to the business?"

He laid out two folders along the desk so that they faced Cyrus, leaving a third to the side. On each of them, stickers while black titles.

One specified "Defensive/Offensive machinery" while the other was label "Hybrid weaponry".

"After we heard of your request, we decided that we should show you two of our main weaponry departments." He commented. Cyrus grabbed the first folder, and flicking through the papers inside.

"We do not do conventional weapons, such as explosives and guns, and I assume that is why you contacted us?" Cyrus grunted in agreement, eyes not leaving the folder.

"In that folder you have there, we show our most advanced developments in mechanical weaponry."

"Machines?" Cyrus asked.

"Yes, of course. You might need a specialized team to handle them, but this is our most efficient sector."

"I already specified I would need airborne transportation." He put the folder back onto the desk, and proceeded to the other. "An aerial island would do."

"Yes, but we are here to discuss purchases you would rather be done…" He made a coughing noise, "Under the book."

"Hmm, right."

"Yes." He grabbed the first folder, and putting it back in order. "That folder shows our advances in Hybrid weaponry."

Cyrus looked amused and fascinated. His eye brows lifted in curiosity, eyes scanning the files quickly.

"I must admit, you have some interesting works in progress. I'm not quite sure if a weapon of this range would do well for our plans, yet I can see why many would be interested."

"Well, what kind of weaponry are you looking for?"

Cyrus put the folder on the glass desk, behind them the window glistened with the city lights.

"I'm looking for something that can morph into the kind of power I need." He looked into Julius' eyes leaning forward. "I need something that can _steal_power, if you know. Maybe like a ditto, but of a magnitude no pokemon could ever reach."

He leaned back into the chair. "I'm not sure if I make myself clear. I need some kind of weapon that can use the power of a pokemon, without needing the pokemon itself."

"You mean a machine that can duplicate pokemon attacks?" Julius glanced at the folder left on the side. "There is a project we have…"

Cyrus bent forward slightly.

He continued. "…We call it the Shadow."

There was a moment of silence.

Julius burst into chuckles. He passed the third folder, with no sticker.

"Yes, it is a bit dramatic for a name." He straightened up. "You see, we are trying to create something that can be molded into what function we want it to serve. Something that would be able to… morph into the type of energy we would want."

As soon as the folder was open, Cyrus read fervently through the file.

"We have not quite yet developed it properly, though."

Cyrus spoke. "When would you have it ready?"

"Well, it's not exactly the process we have on it." Julius explained. "It the amount of money we are spending on it. It is quite expensive, and we have a rather short list of buyers. So development is quite slow now…"

He looked quizzically at the older business man. "Unless, you were willing to make a sort of investment, maybe so that it could be developed into what you wanted specifically, and so that we could produce it faster."

Cyrus thought for a few moments.

"Although this might be an unwise business decision, no other company seems to fit my need." He held his hand out. "I'll take the deal."

"Here at Steel co., we always try to make our customers happy." Julius grinned wide, commercial sounding. He shook his hand back.

"Yes, yes indeed." Cyrus pulled out his PDA. "Please, let's go into the specifics of this deal."

"Well, for starters, you must know this can only be done if you are able to pay in cash." Julius started, pulling out a small laptop in his turn.

The conversation was drowned into numbers and requirements.

An hour later, Cyrus left the Global Terminal with a satisfied smirk. The limousine driver had been alert next to the back door, not willing to risk falling asleep on the job. He felt a sense of relief seeing that his boss was in a good mood.

They drove down the streets, leaving Jubilife. Little did its inhabitants know that in a time not so far away, a terrible chain of events would shake the city's own foundations.

"_You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for wa_r"

* * *

A/N: My first story! Enjoy!

I thought for a really long time what Cyrus's Last name should be. I thought of one that wouldn't sound too cheesy. Don't you think its funny how they never seem to mention last names in the anime? I didn't want to contradict that and ended up not putting my invented last name.

And I'm not sure, but when the time when trainers and coordinators to get their badges ended, what do they call that training period? I don't think They ever named it on the anime, so I just named it Kill Time, since they are no longer busy and have time to kill.

The quote was by Albert Einstein himself.

Anyways, most of this might not be making much sense right now. Please! Bear with me! It's only the first chapter after all.

Please Review! Writing these first chapters are a paaaain for me, and it would be great to get some encouragement.


	3. Jubilife City pt1

Chapter Two Part One: Jubilife City

* * *

_-Many might of seen in last night's news, Eterna's Museum of Natural History and Sciences underwent massive damage when an education reform protest turned in riot. Protesters were able to get into the museum's frontal entrance, and although the riot was suppressed by the authorities, historical items were reported missing. The damage is now speculated in being near 2 million worth of -_

Ttzzzttfzzzzz

_-Unlucky traveler looking to head up north? Those of you planning to take route 205, think again! The route in now flooded! The nearby river has over flooded, due to the rising levels in the temperature, causing ice layers on the upper region of mount Coronet to melt faster, thus the overflowing. Now, the well travelled road is now overpopulated with Magikarp and Barboach that have been swept down from the -_

TzzzZZzzzzffttttzzzz

_-Steel corporation, Number one in transport and communication, is the choice of 7 out of 10 Sinnoh citizens. Is there anything we can't-_

Tzzzzzzzzffftttzzz

_-The Crime Rate? It's not even funny how each year it keeps on getting higher! One would think that as technologies make our lives more comfortable, it would decrease, but no! This year, statistic have reported a staggering three percent increase! _

_Dave, remember when being a trainer was considered to be 'safe'? Now, trainers need to buckle up, keep an eye out for themselves, and preferably, an eye for each other. I recommend travelling in groups, since lone travelers are more considered to be more susceptible to being mugged or attacked by fifty-two percent-_

Tffzzzzztfzz

_-Do the D A N C E, one, two, three, four, fight! Stick to the B E A T, get ready to ignite! You are such a P Y T, catching all the-_

Tzzzttffttzzzz

"Damn Radio." With that, Brock brought his fist down onto the rusty device. This only resulted with a moment of static, before the music chimed back in.

-"_Easy as A B C, that's how you make it right…"_

He wiped off a layer of sweat from his forehead, sighing and leaning back into the wooden chair. The empty Pokemon center was bathed with the sunlight that filtered through the curtains, which had been pulled down in an attempt of diminishing the sweltering temperature. Nurse sat behind the lobby desk, head propped on her hand. Her other hand held a magazine, which she fanned back and forth towards her face.

The entrance bell jingled. Two teen aged kids walked in, step lagging and tired.

"Do you know how hot it is out there?" Ash pulled himself a chair from the table and slumped onto it. Behind him, Dawn held a small battery fueled fan. She joined them, throwing her backpack to the floor with a tired sigh.

Brock reached towards the small radio and turned the volume down.

"Did you find the ferry tickets?"

"Nah, they didn't have any this time either."Ash took of his hat and placed it on the table. "Something about no availability, and being sold out because of kill time."

"That's the third time that's happened this week!" Dawn frowned, switching the fan on and off. "Has this ever happened to you guy before? I thought ferries came back and forth, so you catch one the next time it came around."

"Yeah, it's supposed to be that way, but it looks like everybody has bought their tickets in advance or something." Brock explained, unsure. "It's the first time it ever happened to us."

"I need to practice." Ash drummed his fingers on the table, unrequited. "I only have two months before kill time is over, and I really wanted to get some practice at home, back in Pallet."

"I wanted to get to know Kanto." Dawn added, face dreamy. "Maybe catch some pokemon over there…"

"Pikaa…" The mouse jumped from Ash's shoulder and onto the table, before curling up besides the radio.

The three travelers sat, an air of defeat surrounding them.

The Nurse Joy behind the lobby called out for them.

"If you're interested in practice, there's a non-official tournament being held downtown." She suggested, now reading the magazine. The three of them in their chairs, eyes questioning. She flipped a page.

"I got a few pamphlets yesterday, and you sound like the type of people who would be interested." From underneath the desk, she took a stack on the said pamphlets and placed them along few other that were displayed along the desk.

Ash stood and fetched one.

"Thanks," He added to the nurse Joy, who nodded with a sweet smile.

"This sounds alright." Ash said, sitting down again at the table. He passed one to Dawn.

It read:

"_FLASH SHINE CHARITY TOURNAMENT_

_For the best trainers who shine among the crowd!_

_Discover the true winners and give to those who need it!"_

"I bet a lot of trainers will be there for practice," Ash stood from the chair. "You feel up to it, Dawn? Maybe it's for coordinators too."

Dawn nodded, standing as well. "Doing anything is better than just lagging around in this heat. I'm up to the challenge."

Brock switched the radio off and slipped into his bag. Swinging it onto his back, he followed his two younger companions out of the door. The nurse waved them goodbye, before they were hit with a wave of heat coming from the outside.

The sun glared down onto them.

"What's up with this weather?" Dawn squinted her eyes, shielding them from the sun with the palm of her hand. "I thought Jubilife had sunny temperature, not overpowered-oven-cooking-you-alive temperature."

Ash shrugged. "Maybe it's global warming."

"Jubilife is supposed to be the second most ecological city in Sinnoh, Ash."

"Whatever."

They walked down the street, which bustled with activity. Small stands with tents hanging over spotted the sidewalk, forming an outdoors market. The trio hurried underneath the shadows of the tents, avoiding the scalding rays of sun.

"Cheap and rare Pokeballs!" One of the merchants called.

Smoke of cars swishing by, filling their lungs. The city seemed to be suffocating under the unforgiving sun.

They reached a small plaza once they exited the market. Just like the market, it was swarmed by people going about their daily lives.

"The pamphlet said the tournament is being held at an indoors stadium. It supposed to be past this plaza." Brock stood for a moment, scanning the crowd and searching the street named on the pamphlet. Ash and Dawn stood behind him, waiting for his indications.

There was a man standing in the middle of a plaza.

He wore ragged clothes, dirty from too much wear and tear. His gloves, fingerless, were supposed to be white. Instead, they had been dusted down into a light grey, spotted with several stains.

Underneath his jacket, many layers of sweaters were topped on, despite the heat of the day. His shoes and jeans had various holes in them, and the man had graying hair. There was a desperate look in his eyes.

Swinging his arms back and forth in angry waves, he chanted and cried, stalking back and forth in a meter range. While some passerby's ignored his existence, a small crowd was forming around him, listening.

At his feet, leaning against a worn looking backpack, was a piece of cardboard. On it:

"PRAISE THE COMING OF THE NEW AGE"

The letters were rather crammed, drawn with a black marker. Some who walked past it eyed it with curiosity. The homeless man ranted.

"You all know! And it's your fault as well! We live in a cruel world! We are governed by lust and evil!" His eyes were wide. One of them was of an odd blue and slanted to a side, which remained still and unmoving in its socket.

"But there is a new order coming! There will be no pain and hurt! There shall be no more evil!"

Dawn watched the man with weary eyes.

"Ash, what is that guy talking about?" She stepped closer to him and pointed towards the homeless man. Ash craned his neck and looked at the man.

He shrugged. "Don't know, probably some guy that's a part of a sect. Maybe he's trying to sell something."

"I think the street is down there." Brock walked forwards again. "We'll make it in no time."

"A wise man once said, the world is a dangerous place, _not_ because of those who do evil, but because of _those_ who look on and do nothing!" The homeless man shouted. "How many times have you looked for the comfort of your own society, to only find that it has abandoned you?"

"Do you think any of what that man is saying could be true?" Her voice timid, tugging at Brock arm. He looked back and chuckled at the sight of the man.

They walked past the small crowd of listeners.

"Of course not!" Brock laughed. "Why do you think there is so little people listening to him? If any of what he is saying were true, more people would stop and listen to him."

"How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one's culture but within oneself?" The people around the homeless man nodded or looked uncertain.

"I bet Officer Jenny is going to come soon," Ash assured her, swinging his arm over her shoulder. "And she's going to kick him out of the plaza." Pikachu cha-ed in agreement.

She smiled, feeling a bit better.

A few moments later, Officer Jenny arrived. At her feet, growling and snarling was a rather fierce looking luxio. The man did not need more than one warning before leaving.

"You are part of this, officer! You're doing the wrong thing!" He scrambled from his spot, piece of cardboard underneath his arm and swinging his bag onto his shoulder. The crowd began to dissipate.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get out of here!" She lifted her cane in the air in a threatening manner, luxio barked at her feet. "We don't need bums like you scaring people away!"

Dawn felt at peace once the man was gone.

* * *

The sun hung high in the sky over Sandgem town.

Standing in the front porch of a large ranch, Lance and Roark waited by the door. It was a quite green setting, as they were surrounded by chestnut oak trees and various wild plants. Through the trees, the chirping of bright bird pokemon could be heard, mixed in with the distant sound of the Sandgem sea shore.

Roark's loud knocks resonated through the red door.

"Professor Rowan! Professor Rowan!" He called, yet no sound could be heard approaching the door.

"He's probably in the back tending to some Pokemon." He explained to the waiting Dragon master, who stood, arms crossed, observing his surroundings.

"We should try the back," Roark suggested. "I'm sure he's expecting you."

Lance nodded, and walked ahead of Roark, already searching for an alternative door.

"It kind of hard to believe there's something terrible going on this very moment." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. Looking up, he gazed at the trees.

"_Earth's beauty is in its soulfully smiling hope, and its peacefully loving promise_." He recited, thinking of a dusty Poetry book from his father's library written with the sole purpose of expressing the love and joy of the earth.

"Yes, it's hard to believe." Lance turned back to face him. "You're into Poetry and Literature, right?" He noted.

Roark took off his mining hat, and fumbled around with it in his hands.

"Yes," He got the self-conscious feeling of Lance's eyes on him "Ever since I was a kid, I sat around my family's libraries and memorized verses and quotes."

Lance grinned, a strange thing coming from such a composed and serious champion.

"I failed Literature in school." Lance told as they reached the back part of the ranch. It consisted of a wide valley, partly enclosed by more trees and a wire fencing which could be seen in the distance. Pokemon of different types and species were spread across the land, peaceful and keeping to themselves.

"My cousin took care of me back then, and since she didn't mind, I'm pretty much behind on my reading ever since." His eyes left Roark, and traveled across the valley in search of the professor.

A man was struggling with a rather large bag of poke chow, next to a small pond where several bowls were lined up.

Lance stalked towards him. Roark followed behind him, wordless and surprised. During their whole voyage to Sandgem, the dragon master had been quite and untalkative, keeping their conversation down to small talk and casualties. He stated that the situation would be explained once in the presence of professor Rowan.

The blue haired man struggled in his dirty white lab coat, his jeans underneath dusted up his knees. Mumbling to himself, he approached the next bowl to fill.

"Excuse me" Lance interrupted the man with the poke chow.

Startled, the man jumped back, dropping the bag of poke chow. This landed on the shore of the pond, before tumbling down and into the water with a splash. He cursed, glasses askew, and attempted to pull the bag back out.

Lance hurried to his side in an effort to help, but the man waved him away.

"I got it! I got it!" He pulled the wet bag from its bottom, spilling out pokechow in copious amounts. An array of goldeen and corphish poked out of the water, picking the crockets from the surface.

The man groaned, abandoning the bag as the water pokemon pulled it in for more.

"Oh, I give up" Sighing, he straightened his back, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Upon turning to face the two visitors, his eyes widened.

"Lance!" he squeaked, standing up straight and dusting off his lab coat frenetically. With a swift motion he pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Sir, I didn't think you'd arrive so soon." Nervous, he wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Roark here helped me through a few shortcuts." Patient, Lance signaled at the miner. He continued, "Yet, it is very urgent that I see professor Rowan."

"Uh, yes, sir." He indicated them to follow, and started to walk towards the end of the valley. Roark looked back at the ranch.

"Is he not in the ranch?" He asked squinting ahead to spot the professor.

"He's at the Lake cabin." The young man answered. He pointed at a spot between the trees. Hidden between the foliage and the trees trunks, a distinct outline of a small cabin could be seen.

Walking the distance, the lake was now visible along with the cabin.

Lake Verity glimmered, the sun was reflected bright off the calm surface. On it shore, the log cabin stood on a log structure, which elevated it above the water. The stairs on the porch lead the way to the front door.

"You'll find the professor in the back." The assistant added, before walking back through the trees. "I'd prefer to not disturb his work now."

Lance nodded, and made his way up the front porch. The door was open.

Once inside, they were greeting by a small living room, adjourned a tiny kitchen to their left. Straight ahead, a glass sliding door, leading to a balcony overlooking the lake.

"He's there," Roark whispered, feeling almost as if the atmosphere had change here. The small cabin was underneath the shade of the tall trees, giving a darker yet calmer feel to the place.

On the balcony, stretched out in a chair in front of a small table, professor Rowan sat with a glass of scotch in his hand.

Lance pulled the sliding door aside.

"Visitors!" Rowan exclaimed, straightening out in his chair. He waved them to the two remaining chair around the table.

"Professor!" Lance greeted, sharing a strong hand shake with the older man. Rowan laughed heartedly.

"I see you brought company." He added, signaling Roark with the glass cup in his hand.

"Roark lead me from Oreburgh to here. I was quite lost." Lance answered, taking a seat in front of the professor. "I even missed out on Cynthia."

Roark was taken aback. Cynthia, the Sinnoh champion? What was going on, what event involved so many champions to get involved, including those from other regions? Roark felt under accomplished.

"If you'd like, I can wait back with you assistant." Roark offered, feeling intrusive.

"With Yuzo?" Rowan shook his head. "No, Roark, stay here with us. I knew your father through and through, and I think I know you enough to trust you."

Roark sat in the chair between them.

"I don't understand what is going on." Roark said, unsure whether to ask the questions in his head.

"Well, I wouldn't know where to begin!" The professor looked out towards the lake, setting his glass on the table.

"Back in Kanto, Team Rocket has been striking deals with Team Galactic." Lance began. "You probably know this, but Team Rocket deals with more serious crimes, such as drug and arm trafficking."

The gym leader was taken aback. "I thought Galactic was harmless. Just an organization that vandalized museums and worshiped Palkia and Dialga."

"Yes, that's what we all believed." Roark continued, "But we have gathered notice of rather large gatherings in their names, as well been informed by many rangers that they are now actively involved in the black pokemon markets, dealing with other teams such as team Rocket itself."

Roark looked confused, and turned to Lance.

"We got evidence to conclude that they are sort of…" Lance trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Gathering Money? Saving up?"

"Yes, yes indeed." The older man nodded. He stood from his chair and reached for a suitcase inside of the cabin, resting against the open sliding doors. Once in his chair again, he pulled out a variety of pictures and files.

"Pokemon rangers have had their eyes on Team Galactic, like they do for every type of criminal organization." He explained, scattering the pictures round the table. "They've been the ones who have reported these events to the league."

Roark and Lance picked each a picture. In each one, different shady looking scenes, taken probably with a big amount of zoom. Not only pictures of encaged Pokemon, but also pictures of a rather large piles of drugs being shipped off.

"Some of these transactions are being made with Kanto regions." Lance added, "thus, the reason I'm here, representing the Kanto League."

"So, what you are telling me is that Galactic has transformed from a lunatic sect, to a full blown criminal gang and trafficking circle?" Roark concluded.

The professor hesitated.

"Not… exactly." Rowan said, and took a sip out of his drink. "You see, these pictures were taken by people we have on the inside. Each work separately, and do not know the identities of other agents."

"Like spies?" Roark asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Undercover agents would be more suitable." Lance clarified. "The thing is, each one has reported that the money earned through these illegal deals their cutting, their saving it up for 'The Big Hit'."

Roark childish smile was wiped off his face. "What's the 'Big Hit'?"

"That our main problem." Rowan almost shrugged. "We didn't know what team Galactic was planning. Nothing added up to anything else other than a criminal syndicate in the making…"

"Until they bought a rather large shipment of weapons." Lance finished.

Roark furrowed his brow. "Well, every thug has a weapon to intimidate with, right?"

"We're not talking a couple of guns." Lance shook his head, pulling out a picture. "We're talking about an industrial size purchase, almost parallel to that of the Sinnoh military force."

"What?" Roark was taken aback. He took the picture that Lance had pulled out, eyes scanning through it. "Is that ammo?"

"Yes, bullets and such." Rowan said, face darker and sullen.

"And we have to take action." A fourth voice added.

All three men turned to see the new voice that joined their conversation.

A women walked into the cabin with a graceful strode. Her golden hair moved in soft waves, parted at each side of her face by large dangling hair clips similar to an umbreon's ears. She stood tall, eyes and long lashes hidden by her blond bangs, long jacket billowing at her feet. She was dressed in black.

"Cynthia." The professor stood, respect in his eyes, despite his seniority. They met at the sliding doors, where he took her hand and placed a small kiss on it. She smiled.

Roark and Lance stood as well. She faced them and shook their hands with firm grips.

"Lance, Roark." She greeted voice dead serious in her tone as her smile faded away. She sat in the last empty chair.

"Lance, I'm sorry about the _last_ meeting." She began. A small glare could be detected in the Dragon Master's eyes. Cynthia continued, acting oblivious. "I hope you were able to recover the Lustrous Orb."

"Oh, of course." Lance responded voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. Roark threw him an odd glance, estranged by the man's change of humor. "You leaving it behind in a ruble of rocks wasn't the most ideal plan though."

Cynthia's eyes hardened.

"My Garchomp was injured, and I lost it in my escape." She flipped her hair back a lowered her eyes. "Yet it wasn't the best thing to do."

Lance's glare softened, irritation fading away.

"My apologies." She nodded at Lance and at the professor in turn.

"My dear, everything is alright." Rowan assured. He turned to Lance. "You have the Lustrous orb here with you, right?"

Lance nodded, and retrieved his bag hanging at his side. Putting it in his lap, he scavenged through it before pulling out the bundle of fabric. Ever careful, Lance set it on the table, and unfolded the fabric, revealing the smooth orb.

The table was illuminated by a soft light, the rest of the surroundings dimed. The four of them watched it, faces illuminated by the bluish light.

"I don't understand what this orb has to do with Galactic." Roark spoke softly for the first time since Cynthia's arrival.

In an unconscious motion, he reached forwards to grab it.

"No!" the other three shouted, reaching forward to put the orb out of his reach. Lance grasped the orb and had it with rapid folds into its fabric. Cynthia slapped his hand away, the same time Rowan dropped his scotch all over the glass table's surface.

Roark widened his eyes, pulled his hand back, as if burned. His face drained of color. Had he done sometime wrong?

"I-I-I didn't-" He started, unsure of what to say.

"Please son, do not worry." Rowan assured. The Professor stood from his seat and disappeared into the cabin. Roark looked back and forth between Cynthia and Lance, searching for answers. Their faces remained dead serious.

"I don't understand," Roark said with a small voice. Lance shook his head

"Don't worry, it has happened before." Lance explained as he put the orb back into the messenger bag. Roark looked confused, but Rowan walked in to explain.

"The orb is known for its summoning powers." He leaned forwards and wiped the scotch off the table with a rag.

"I'm so sorry." Roark fumbled with his hat, ashamed. "But… I'm not sure what I did wrong. Is it not supposed to be touched? Because I didn't even realize..."

Cynthia waved him off, a small smile on her lips.

"It happened to me too." She explained to Roark's surprise. "It has some kind of pull…" She looked unsure for a moment, searching for the right words. "It's like it _making_ you grab it, calling you or something of the sort."

"So please son, don't worry." Rowan assured, hanging the wet rag over the railing of the balcony. The sun was now setting, the lake glittering madly as it reflected the day's last rays of light.

Roark nodded, though still ashamed.

"What happens when you touch it?"

His eyes sharp, Lance answered in his deep voice.

"It is said to have the power to summon and _control_… Palkia, the deity that controls space." He looked away, eyes searching the beautiful lake. "Along with the Adamant Orb, Galactic would be able to control _both_ space and time…"

"Which was reported missing from the Eterna's Museum last night." Cynthia added, grim. "We still don't know if this had to do with Galactic."

Rowan looked apprehensive, pictures of ammo and artillery in hand. "I'm quite terrified in thinking what they might be planning to do."

"What do you have in mind?" Rowan asked, concerned.

Rowan hesitated and put the picture down.

"I'm not quite sure." He answered, wise voice filled with doubt and worry.

* * *

On the outside of the stadium, the side glass windows were plastered with posters similar to the pamphlets given to the trio earlier.

The posters were fresh pressed against the glass, a shiny gloss to it, decorated with stripes of red, yellow, white and blue slashed uneven across the background. On it, an unusual yellow and black luxray.

"It's such a pretty poster," Dawn frowned. "Yet, they managed to print the colors wrong…"

Brock chuckled, and looked at Dawn with tenderness in his eyes.

"Of course it's not colored wrong, Dawn." He explained, turning around to glance at the other posters of the windows. Hundreds of them were lined up the windows of the station, as well as on other walls of other lesser buildings, with a single variation of the Pokémon in the background changing.

"I think they're colored different because their supposed to be shiny Pokémon." His hand rose to his chin, rubbing it between his index and thumb fingers, face in thought.

"Does that mean that I can't enter?" Ash chimed in, his excitement faltering a moment.

"Why wouldn't you be able to enter?" Dawn asked as she looked at the next poster lined up. This one sported a blue flamed ponyta.

"Because I don't have any shiny pokemon with me! And besides, I only have one!" His juvenile voice aggravated.

Brock chuckled once more. "I doubt that any tournament would only allow shiny Pokémon to battle. They are incredibly rare in the wild, and even more in breeding." He patted Ash's back in reassurance. "Such tournament would probably only involve less than a dozen trainers. I bet the shiny Pokémon on the posters are just publicity."

"Hmm, makes sense" Dawn nodded.

"Well, what am I waiting for? I'm going to go inscribe myself!" Ash beamed, Pikachu on his back squealed in a joyful response.

Dawned rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged her lips. Ash was never going to change…

Inside of the stadium, the front room was crowded with Trainers and coordinators, each waiting in a long line.

"What is this? " Ash glared at the line of trainers. On the front desk, two woman attended.

Ash stopped a Trainer that was approaching the exit. "Excuse me, is this the line for the Flash Shine tournament?"

The trainer nodded. Ash groaned, but thanked him and headed towards the back of the line. Dawn joined him.

"It looks like its going to be a while." She frowned. "But it seems like a great tournament. You think coordinators can enter?"

Before Ash could answer, the trainer in front of them chuckled. Dawn and Ash shared odd looks turning back at the trainer when he faced them.

"I can assure you it will have coordination competitions too." He said, pushing his long brown bangs out of his eyes underneath his baseball cap.

"Wait a minute, I…" Ash started.

"How do you know?" Dawn cut him off.

"I bet those kids over there aren't just trainers." He pointed towards a group of rather flamboyant trainers. Dawn's eyes widened.

"Look, Ash, its Zoë!" She waved at the coordinator, who smiled and waved back, a few spots ahead in the line.

"Pikachu!" The mouse cried, signaling the trainer with them.

"Ritchie?" Ash voiced filled with surprise. The trainer chuckle once more.

"Ash, I was afraid you no longer recognized me!" He laughed. Ash laughed as well, pulling the boy into a hug.

"It's been way too long! I didn't even know you were in Sinnoh!" He turned to Dawn. "Dawn, this is Ritchie, an old friend of mine ever since I still traveled around Jhoto." With a shy wave, she smiled, biting her lower lip.

He held his hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you, Dawn."

"Nice to meet somebody who knew Ash before Sinnoh and Hoenn. At least now I know he wasn't making it all up." She grinned, shaking his hand. They both laughed.

"Hey! Dawn, that isn't nice." He furrowed his brow, yet a smile still played at his lips. "Already upset that you know you're not going to win this tournament?"

Dawn gasped, eyes wide. "Why would you say that? You know I've training forever for the Gran festival, you really think I won't win this?" She punched his arm.

"Ow, Dawn! You know I'm just kidding!" He grasped his arm where the punch had landed. "What was that for?"

Ritchie laughed at the scene. At his legs, a Pikachu ran up to him and pulled at his jeans.

"Is that Sparky?" Ash asked.

Pikachu jumped off of Ash's shoulder, greeting the Pokemon with enthusiasm. The other pikachu, squealed in delight, engaging in some kind of pikachu-poke talk.

"Yeah, that is."

Dawn noticed the small differences between Ash's and Ritchie's Sparky. On the base of his ears, a patch of hair was ruffle upwards, almost giving the pikachu a distinct 'hairstyle'.

"That's so cool." Dawn said. "Both of you have a pikachu!"

"Ritchie, nice to see you!" Brock called, walking up behind them.

"Brock, great to see you as well!"

"Hey, I have an idea." Ash suggested. "How about right after we sign into the tournament we go to get a bite somewhere?" Everybody agreed.

He turned to Ritchie. "We can catch up on everything we've missed in these last… Three years?"

Ritchie nodded. "It really has been a long time."

A girl waited outside of the stadium, headphones plugged into her ears. She swayed her head back and forth to the beat, sunglasses over her eye glaring off the sun rays. She sat on a bench in front of the Steel stadium, waiting patiently for her cousin to return.

The door to the Stadium jingled open.

"I'm sorry Ash." Ritchie bit his lip. "If I had known that you were here, I would have been you're partner."

The girl smiled, stood and walked to meet the boy. She pulled the headphone from her ears and stuffed them into her pocket.

"It's ok, Ritchie." Ash frowned. "But it suck I can't enter just because I don't have a partner."

"Ritchie!" The girl waved, and slipped off her glasses. Underneath them, soft violet eyes. She reached the group, eyeing them curiously. "Who are these?"

"Hey guys," He took the girl by the wrist, pushing her forwards. "This is Harlow, my cousin. Harlow, these are some trainers I met back when I was in the Jhoto League."

She smiled.

"Nice to meet some people my cousin knows" She greeted, her voice deep and raspy.

In an instant, Brock was on his knees, grasping her hand. She looked puzzled, tugging her hand away.

"Did you just use confuse ray? Because you're making me dizzy with all that beauty…" He ogled, mouth open with dribble sliding down the corner of his lips.

Looking disturbed, she threw Ritchie a questioning look. Before he could answer, a swift croagunk stabbed his side with a poison jab and he collapsed to the floor.

"Croaa…" It croaked, before dragging him away.

"Uh, okay." Ritchie's cousin watched, amused. A giggle slipped through her lips.

"Yeah, that's Brock." Ash spoke for his fallen friend, scratching the back of his head.

She smiled at him, holding out her hand to shake. "I'm Ritchie's cousin, Harlow."

From the first glance, Ash could tell that that this girl wasn't a trainer. Although her strawberry blonde hair wasn't kept to every strand like Dawn's, from his spot he could tell the smell of her shampoo. It fell in soft waves down to her shoulders, yet the top layers seemed to be chopped off short at ear length and lay rather flat against a green head band pushed down her head. Strands of hair stood, tousled.

Her bedroom eyes watched him with a casual gaze. She wore a long grey cardigan sweater that reached down her thighs, over hot pink leggings that were tucked into her blue flats (not exactly trainer wear). He took her manicured hand.

"Ash. Nice to meet you."

* * *

"If we leave now, we can make it to Jubilife by morning."

Lance nodded, walking side by side with Roark.

They walked through the fields of the lab, the night beginning to peak through the horizon. The sun was setting.

The miner waited for his answer.

"You sure you don't mind showing me the way?" Lance asked again, cape flowing behind him.

"Rowan needs somebody to investigate what that Steel corporation has to do with this Galactic mess." Roark nodded. "Yes, I'll take you there. It's not like I have anything else to do, and if we really are all in danger because of team Galactic, I don't mind accompanying you."

Lance hummed in response, but said nothing.

Roark frowned. "You you really think they might turn their arms against us?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't see what good it would do, if their purpose is to gain the Orbs. Ordering an army's worth of artillery seems like over kill."

For a second, Roark imagined Lance defending the Lustrous orb, surrounded by thousands of men with guns, moments before a rainfall of bullets poured onto him. He shook his head.

"I hope so."

* * *

"I'm not quite sure." The girl answer, voice filled with doubt, eyeing the inscription paper warily.

"Oh, Harlow." Ritchie pleaded with eyes wide. "They didn't say it was a tag battle tournament. Without you, Ash can't participate!"

His blond cousin shook her head.

"I only have two Pokemon…" She added, unsure. "And they don't even battle. I mean, I've never even tried to battle with them before. I never got my trainer ID."

"It not an official League tournament," Brock read off Ash's inscription paper. "So, truthfully you wouldn't be doing anything illegal. In fact, most people who never get their trainer ID participate in unofficial tournaments like these."

"Don't worry about you're Pokemon!" Ash encouraged. "I bet they're great! All they need is a little encouragement from their trainer."

She hesitated, shuffling her feet. "I don't want to sound harsh, but it's true. _They suck_."

At this, every trainer, coordinator and breeder in the group scowled at her use of words. She had forgotten that she was dealing with hardcore poke-huggers.

"Uuuh…" She bit her lip, almost shrinking underneath the glares thrown at her direction. Even a couple of passerby's had seemed to have heard her, shaking their heads in disapproval as they walked away. "

"Oh Mew, fine! I'll do it!" She snatched the pen from Dawn's hand and dashed her signature into the end of the sheets. They all smiled again.

"See! It was that easy." Ritchie took the paper from her hand and handed them to the receptionist of the stadium. "I even filled up the sheet for you, all to make it trouble-free for you." Ritchie smiled, ignoring his cousin's insecure looking puppy like face.

"Thank you Harlow!" Ash, excited, looked up at the receptionist, taking his papers from Brock and handing them over. "My partner is going to be Harlow…" He threw the girl a questioning look.

"…Rish" She whispered, hand dragging over her eyes.

"Rish!" He took the pen and scribbled it down on his paper, then slid it across the reception. The woman took them and straightened them out. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome, sweetie." The woman smiled. "Please proceed to the assignment area if participating in the tournament, or to the seating aisles if just viewing."

"Good thing you told me in time that it was a tag battle tournament in time." Ash commented after he waved Dawn and Brock off. Pikachu agreed with a squeak, excited. "How come you didn't look for a partner?"

"Harlow had told me about it before." Ritchie pointed his thumb at the girl who nodded, grim. They walked along the hall ways, which was crowded by several other excited trainers, voices of excitement filling the stadium. "She got her neighbor to be my partner."

A girl with purple hair waved at Ritchie, calling his name. She was at the entrance of the assigning area.

"That's her!" She turned and placed one hand on Ash's and Harlow's shoulder. "You guys will be ok without me?"

"Yeah, go on!"

Leaving them behind, Ritchie ran up to greet his partner.

Ash looked at the blond, a feeling uncertainty creeping upon. The Harlow girl looked rather apprehensive.

"Listen, if you really don't want to do this…" He started, unsure of how to continue. Should he give up his chance of participating in the tournament?

"What?" She snapped her head up, surprised.

"Oh! Oh, no!" She shook herself off, smiling once more. "Don't worry! I'm just afraid that I'm going to bring you down! In fact, I'm not even sure what attacks my pokemon have, and I only have one with me right now."

"Oh," He frowned, removing his cap and moving his fingers through his hair. "Well, if anything, I can lend you a pokemon, and we can figure out what moves yours have with my pokedex. He looked at her.

"What Pokemon do you have?"

"An eevee and a ponyta." She stuffed her hand into her oversized bag, fishing around for the pokeball. The perfumed smell of her hair reached Ash. He blushed, putting the cap back on and taking out his own pokedex.

Her violet eyes beamed as she retrieved an black pokeball, lined with parallel golden marks. In the middle, the golden push button.

Ash withheld a gasp, eyes wide. "A Luxury ball!"

She smiled, twiddling the minimized ball in her finger.

"My mother gave me my eevee in this ball." Her eyes were filled with tenderness. "Told me to take care of it."

"I heard they're great!" Ash and Harlow entered the assignment area, where a large screen was loading slot places for each battle. In each slot, a picture of a trainer and their partner.

Their pictures weren't shown yet.

"I guess they still haven't sorted everything out." He looked back at her, pokedex in hand. "Could I see you're pokeball?"

She nodded, and handed him the black pokeball. Examining closing, Ash almost forgot why he had it until the blond girl eyed him, waiting. He straightened himself out and made a coughing sound in his throat. Flipping the pokedex scanner up, He aimed it at the pokeball. The screen lit up, and a list of attacks and a general picture of an eevee appeared.

"Eevee, the evolution pokemon. A rare Pokémon that adapts to harsh environments by taking on different evolutionary forms." The small machine read in its mechanical voice, "Attacks available are Quick attack, Tackle, Sand attack, Shadow ball."

He flipped it closed, nodding in comprehension.

"Are those the attacks he can use?" She took the pokeball from his hand.

He nodded. "Not bad." She threw him an insecure look.

"Not bad at all!" He reassured, Pikachu nodding from his shoulder. "I bet we'll make a good team."

The screen loaded a couple of more slots. A couple of trainers that had been wandering around the assignment pointed at the screen, nodding at their partners.

"I think we came up on the screen." Harlow noted, looking at the screen. "Next to the kid with orange hair."

Indeed, their pictures came up in one slot, matched against a kid with flaming orange hair and his partner. It said 'Area Two, Battle B2'.

Entering the door which carried a sign reading Area Two, they were greeted by the very orange hair kid.

"Look, our weakling opponents!" He pointed at the twosome, calling out for his partner, who stood behind him, head down and eyes hidden underneath large glasses.

"Excuse me?" Ash was taken aback, insulted.

"What's your problem?" The blond crossed her arms, eyebrows raised. She didn't seem bothered at all.

"You must have a pretty weak set of pokemon." The redhead snickers, elbowing his small partner. The boy nodded, and kept his head down.

"What are you talking about!" enraged, Ash clenched his fists, Pikachu growling on his shoulder. The redhead ignored it, his frightened partners cowering behind him.

"Have you seen…" Harlow turned at the enraged trained. She mouthed '_Ash?_' The former slapped his hand to his head, nodding. "…Ash in a battle before?

"No, but you guys look pretty lame!"

The girl withheld a laugh, and turned to Ash "Ignore them."

The speaker on next to the entrance spoke "Battle B2, third call. If partaking in Battle B2, please present yourself to the Area Two arena."

"Why did you have to be mean to them?" The silent partner of the redhead whispered as they walked outside, worried.

"It's to intimidate them!" He assured, patting his back. "They probably crapping their pants now."

Behind them Harlow laughed. "They think that they've intimidated us."

"We'll show them!" Ash agreed, and looked to his shoulder. "Right Pikachu?"

"Pika!"

"To the right! William Canny and Camelot Bread!" The orange haired huffed his chest, proud. His partner looked up towards the crowd before turning blue and looking back down at the battle field.

"And to the left!" The announcer pointed to said direction. "Ash Ketchum and Harlow Rish!"

"OHdearme, ohdearmew, ohdearmew!"

"Calm down!" Ash urged, forcing a smile at the crowd. He faced her. "We can do this, you just need to calm down!"

"I've never battled my Eevee before!" Her voice was small, fumbling the black pokeball in her hands. "What if he gets hurt?"

"We go to the Pokecenter!" She looked horrified. Ash cursed himself for saying that.

"Remember! Quick attack, Growl, Sand attack …"

The announcer cried: "Pokemon out!"

"…_Tackle!_"

"Lucario!"

"Swinub!"

Ash looked at Pikachu on his shoulder. "Go ahead, buddy!" Pikachu leaped off his shoulder and landed with a graceful "Ka!"

Harlow turned blue, yet threw the black pokeball into the air. "Eeevee!"

The red laser zigzagged in the air, and in the field a small eevee appeared. The stadium was united by a collective gasp.

"It looks like we have a live shiny Pokemon in the stadium, folks!" The announcer added, surprised himself.

The small eevee scratched its ears oblivious, its shiny fur pale grey. It was smaller than the average eevee.

"Baby!" The blonde called out for it. "Baby, we're gunna battle! You have to do what I say so that we can win, alright?"

The eevee tilted his head, so cute you'd just want to squeeze it.

"Swinub, mudslap!" The orange haired kid called out.

"Pikachu! Thunderbolt at lucario!" The pokemon had been charging at the Pikachu.

"Eeevee! Move!" But the eevee, stood, confused, before getting hit by the incoming mudslap. It was thrown back several feet, crying out in surprise.

Meanwhiles, the lucario and Pikachu engaged, the former throwing aura spheres, counterattacked by continuous thunderbolts.

"Eevee, uuh..." She got caught in thought for a moment. "Quick attack the swinub!"

Eevee hesitated, but then saw the swinub prepare for another attack. The small fox charged forwards, dissapering into a blur.

"Swinuub!" It cried as the grey eevee colided against it. Together they flew back and rolled around the field.

The lucario roared as Pikachu landed a volt tackle to its hip.

"Excellent!" Ash called, proud. He looked at the blond at his side.

"Sand attack before he gets up Eevee!" She ordered, a smile creeping up her no-longer worried face.

The swinub was met by a lash of sand in the face. It stumbled backwards, confused and without time to counter attack.

"I'm doing better than I thought I would!" She said to Ash, eyes focused on the battle.

"How's that for weakling, dipshit?" Ash laughed upon hearing her words.

* * *

"Sir! Mr. Long! The trainers battling, sir!" The man shook a pair of inscription papers in his hands. "Neither are Sinnoh natives…"

The control center room was a dim lit room facing down the stadium, which was viewable through the long horizontal tinted glass window. Along this, several desks occupied with screen and control panels occupied the room.

On the screens, footage of the battle happening down below.

"Focus on the shiny eevee, will you?" Somebody called out. The image in the screen changed.

"Where are they from?" A man inquired, voice deeper and with higher authority. He sat in a large leathery chair in the back on the room, in front of an elegant mahogany desk. In his desk, a screen also showing the battle. In his hand, a cigar.

The other scanned through the inscription papers with difficulty, due to the dim light.

"The boy is from Kanto, and the girl, from Jhoto, sir."

"Are they well known trainers?" The man asked, blowing smoke away.

"The boy has had a few accomplishments, but only in his native country."

"And the girl?"

"Doesn't even have a trainer's ID, sir." The man put down the inscription papers. "If you want to proceed, we can't allow them to win the battle, sir."

He nodded, mouth on his cigar again. After slow drag, and a hearty puff, he answered.

"Then go ahead, feed them to Hydra."

* * *

"Pikachu finish it off with Iron Tail!" The crowd roared as Pikachu landed his heavy tail cross the lucario's skull, knocking it off it feet and down to the ground. His trainer ordered him up, but after a struggle, it collapsed, defeated.

"Nice!" The blond at Ash's side complemented. "Now I just have to finish furbie."

Detemined, she shouted: "Eevee, Shadowball!"

"_Don't let the girl win!"_ An officer at a corner of the stadium looked down at his radio. He smirked

"You heard them, Alakazam." He looked down at said pokemon. Its spoons began to glow. "Deviate the attack."

"Eeeee…" The grey fox stood, tail in the air with it back arched towards the ground. Before its maw, dark sphere of energy, surround by small purple currents of energy. "…VE!"

Forward was launched the attack, dust lifted as it traveled the ground, towards the defenseless Swinub. "Do something, Swinub!" Its trainer cried, tugging at his flame red hair. But the small pokemon kept its ground. Or more like stayed paralyzed on the spot.

Then something wrong happened.

The shadow ball, the size of a bowling ball _grew_. It expanded ridiculously to a size twice of the eevee's, like a balloon filled with a long breath of air, and tumbled right past the Swinub, not even lifting a hair. The crowd was just as awestruck as Ash and the girl.

And like a boomerang, it made a long curve, and was coming back.

"What?" Ash, eyes wide, watched as it approached the shocked Pikachu.

"Pi!" With a crash, and an incredible speed that seemed to come from nowhere, it dissipated in a boom of energy against Pikachu, who was thrown off it paws, and traveled the air for a few feet before falling to the ground.

"Pikachu!" Ash called, running forward to the mouse's aid while Harlow stuttered in disbelief. He scooped him up in his arms, and ran off the field. "What did you do?"

"I-I-" She tried, but was still unsure of what had just happened.

"Swinub, snore!" The kid at the other side shouted, seeing the clear advantage from the strange event. It made a strange noise, and soon enough the eevee swayed before it fell to its side, fast asleep.

"Neither Ash Ketchum or Harlow Rish cannot continue the battle! The Win goes to William Canny and Camelot Bread!" After a few moments, the crowd began to clap weakly.

"What just happened?" The blond returned the eevee to the lustrous ball, bangs fallen forward and hiding her face. Ash just stood, looking as if he had been slapped over the face. Across the field, their opponent taunted something.

"Don't worry, it was just some freakish out lash of power that your Eevee couldn't control!" Ritchie and the losing team walked back toward the assignment area, egos flattened by the inexplicable loss. "You should be proud of it!"

Dawn and Brock had decided to stayed back to heal their Pokemon after a uniformed official looking man came up to Ash, asking him to proceed to the Assignment area for release forms.

"I don't understand…" The blonde's eyes were filled with worry.

"Listen, it's ok that you accidentally-" Ash began.

"No, not that!" She cut him off, before being sent through another guilt trip. "Since when you need release forms from tournaments? Is it standard procedure?"

As they walked back through the inner halls, the assignment area, which had before been crowded, was emptied from all pokemon and trainers.

"Well," Ritchie took his hat in his hand, and shook his flattened hair. Sparky on his shoulder yawned. "Not usually."

"Maybe since it's a none official tournament, they do things differently." Ash shrugged, folding his arms.

"There's nobody here!" Harlow opened and closed her hands, sweaty from an unexplained nervousness. Almost as if the walls were closing around her, her skin filled with goose bumps, and a sense of alertness overwhelmed her.

The place was empty inside.

…Too empty.

"M-maybe we should just go-"

BAM!

She jumped, on edge, a small scream escaped her.

"Mew, Harlow, relax!" Ritchie grasped her arm to calm her. "It's just a door."

Two men in white coats emerged from a door, which slammed into the wall.

"You Ash Ketchum and Harlow Rish?" The taller, gruffer looking one demanded. He glared down intimidating at them

Harlow shook her head, swallowing, but Ash answered for her. "Yes, that's us." He looked up at the man, unfazed.

The slimmer one leaned against the opening, eyes looking through his glasses, a bored look plastered across his face.

"Would you please come along with us, to sign the..." He threw a glance at the other man "…release forms?"

"Can I come?" Ritchie put his hat back on.

"Where you from?" The bored one asked.

"Kanto…" He added, thrown off by the question. Harlow furrowed her brow.

"Why does it matter?" She asked, by her voice was strained with suspicion.

"Just wondering." The big one answered, voice harsh. She quieted.

The one with glasses push the door wide, and stretched his arm down the room behind the door. "Please, come along."

Ash and Ritchie followed as the men turned their backs to them, without thinking twice.

"It sucks we lost only at the beginning."Ash told Ritchie as they walked forwards. "I never thought I could reach the end of a tournament so soon."

Ritchie nodded, but their carefree voices carried down the empty hall way.

The girl stayed behind though, a feeling in her gut holding her back.

_Something is definitely wrong_. The hall way was vacant and bare, her only living soul in it, as Ash and Ritchie were already past the door.

"Kid, you better follow us." The man with glasses signaled her towards the door.

She shook herself off. _I'm just nervous since I lost so quickly. Nothing's wrong. It's me. Nothing is wrong._ She thought.

She stepped into the door, and the man released it.

But as the door swinged to its close, she looked back, peeking from her shoulder.

That was one of those moments. Those moments when you're supposed to make the smart choice, listen to your gut. But Harlow committed a mistake. She didn't know that as soon as that door was shut, her life and the life of the other two trainers as they knew it would end.

She was supposed to stay back, she was supposed to pull her cousin and the boy whose name she had forgotten back and tell them. Tell them how suspicious it all was, and how they should leave, because Jubilife city was a dangerous place filled with scams and dangerous traps. She should know. She lived there for a better part of her life!

It was that moment, if avoided that might have as well saved several innocent lives, lives that did deserve to go. That after that moment, after that door closed, everything would change.

But Harlow didn't know this.

And a moment later, the door slammed close behind her, leaving the hall empty once more.

That was the beginning of the end.

* * *

End of part one of chapter 2.

A few notes about this chapter.

The ranting Homeless man in the begginging is a total copy right infringer (if that how you call it.) He used both quotes from Albert Einstein and Barry Lopez.

*Oh mew: Oh my god, pokemon version. Yes, you can shoot me.

Eevee's pokedex entry taken from Bulbapedia…

And by the way, how do you call somebody that's from Sinnoh, or Kanto, or Jhoto even? Sinnohen? Kantish? Jhotenian? I preferred to not invent words and stick to 'native'. Any suggestions?

Ill post part 2 later today or tommorow part two of this chapter :P


	4. Jubilife City pt2

I guess here is where it starts to be an M rated story.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Two Part Two: Jubilife City

* * *

"You have to listen to me!"

"Please miss, he isn't trying to get your attention!" Dawn pleaded, Brock at her side. "I know he flirted with you other day, but this is serious!"

The officer Jenny watched the two teens in front of her warily, leaning on one foot, keeping the motorcycle underneath her steady, yet unparked.

"Look, even if your friend has been missing for a whole night, it isn't unheard of trainers disappearing without leaving any kind of warning." She twisted the gas handle, the motorcycle roaring back to life. "Especially foreign trainers. They leave their native region because they run from home or simply don't want to be found."

"But miss, Ash isn't-"

"I've heard it all, so unless you have real reason to believe he's in danger, you'll have to suppose that he's training somewhere in the forests." The officer stated with a tone of finality. "If you excuse me, I have real matters to attend to."

With that, she lifted her bike, and was soon riding down the street.

"Pikaaa! Pikachuu!" Pikachu called for her, but was unheard. Dawn reach at her shoulder and caressed the mouse's neck to reassure him.

"Ash wouldn't leave Pikachu behind!" Brock turned and made his way along the side walk, Dawn at his heels. "Ash simply _wouldn't_ leave at all!"

"Brock, please!" She reached for his sleeve and tugged at his arm to slow his fast pace down. "I know you're worried, but you're just making me and Pikachu nervous!"

He stopped, his back to Dawn while she still tugged at his sleeve, and quickly ran his palm down his face.

Around them, the night was beginning to take over of the sky, city lights blinking, city people filling the streets. It was as if nothing was ever wrong.

"_I'm_ the one that's supposed to take care of you and Ash," He said quietly, "I leave him for five minutes, and he's gone."

"No," She looked back and forth between Pikachu and Brock. "Maybe he ran into team Rocket and got held up! You know, they always get us in trouble."

Pikachu and Brock didn't seem very comforted.

* * *

"Oreburgh can't possibly be too far from here." Lance suggested. "I think I can make it on my own now."

Roark shook his head, eyes wandering upwards, looking at the skyscrapers. "I refuse to leave you, Mr. Champion. We can't afford to have you wandering lost in Jubilife city."

Lance raised his eyebrows.

"Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation, sir." Roark added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Did the Dragon master want him gone so badly?

"Don't call me Sir, Roark." He laughed. He stopped and looked at a small stand across the street. "I just don't want to get you involved into unnecessary problems."

Leaving Roark behind, he strode across the street, cars stopping at the red light above him. Roark stood for a moment, before quickly sprinting behind him. "I don't see what problems there could possibly be."

Behind the stand, a woman with long crimson red hair, tied into two ponytails and wearing over sized glasses, was polishing a pokeball. Besides her, a skinny man with blue hair tied back tightly to his head, another pair of glasses, and a bushy grey moustache that seemed to incline in a diagonal direction. On the stand, several pokeballs, displayed next to a piece of cardboard. On it: 'Rare Pokeballs, Cheap prices!'

"Rowan just said we had to track down any suspicious activity happening around Steel co…" Roark remained in thought for a moment. "Isn't that the train company?"

Lance ignored him, and picked up a pokeball from the stand. "How much for this one, miss?"

The Lady behind the counter brought her hand to her glasses, slipping them down her face, and eyed him carefully. "That would be 1000 PokeDollars sir."

"Oh, isn't that a bit expensive for a pokeball?" He asked, examining it closely. The man next to her was receiving money from a trainer who had just bought.

"Oh no, sir!" She shook her head, and plucked it from his hand, pointing at an M on the front of it. "It's a master ball, you see? You usually only get these by trade, and the trading of rare pokemon, sir!"

Roark took one from the table, similar looking to a premier ball.

"Lance, I wouldn't buy these." He ran his nail against it, a small peeling of white paint curling off. "They don't-"

"I can assure you its real!" The blue hair man added. From underneath the stand, he brought up a batch of pokeballs. "You'll never see one of those at this price!"

"Real," the champion reached into his blue blazer, and pulled out a thin chain from underneath. "Like this one?"

The man and woman froze in place, and a pair of trainers at the stand awed. Underneath the table, a faint voice was heard "What oda pokeball ya need, James?"

"If it isn't," He added when he got no response, "I recommend you liquidate this shop before I bring the force of the Pokemon League onto you for committing piracy of official League merchandise."

He dropped the master ball, which dangled down to his chest, much more shiner and smoother looking than the one in the woman's hand. On either side, oval red rubies sparkled from the city lights around them.

A minute later, there was an empty table left behind, and the woman tripping down the street, the man at her heels, pokeballs bundled up in the table cloth messily held in his arms. An odd Meowth that stood on its hind feet followed after them.

"Nice pokeball," Roark put his hat on, "What were we talking about? Oh yes, I'm not leaving."

* * *

Now in an alley, Jessie and James had come to a stop, huffing against the brick wall of a building.

"Won't anybody give us a break?" Meowth wheezed, sprawled on the floor. On his fur, splatters of paint which he had used to color the pokeballs.

"We were doing so great!" James whined, swiping off the dirt of his pants.

Jessie discarded her costume and undid her hair. It bounced back to its original shape.

"It's your entire fault James!" She snarled. "You shouldn't have insisted on it being real, and we could have said that they were replicas!"

"But you said it was real first!"

"No, I didn't-!"

"Guys! Guys!" Meowth stood up, waving his paws between the two. "Stop dat! Don't be unfair!"

Both human companions glared down at him, but before he could be retaliated by Jessie's sharp tongue, and voice interrupted them.

"Unfair?" A hoarse voice asked hauntingly. The trio swirled in the direction of the voice. "My chaps, at your dear age you all should know that _this_ world is unfair."

A man who was practically dressed in ragged stood at the other end of the alley. His beard was thick and puffy grey, eyes with a crazy glint in them. One of them was oddly colored blue, slanted to the side, not moving with the other.

"Um…" James straightened out, unsure. "Can we help you?"

"No, let me help you!" He lifted his arms. In his hands, a cardboard with something scribbled on it. "I can introduce you to a new world, where nothing is unfair. Where you get what you deserve and can live with all the pleasures you want!"

Jessie put her hand to her hips. "Oh really? And say, where is this world?"

The man smiled a toothless grin, holding up the cardboard for her to read underneath his filthy nails. She lifted her eyebrow.

"You and I can create it, along with everybody else, madam!" He nodded, a small drop of drool slipping down his cracked white lips. "And there's good money in it too, milady, if interested in helping."

James' and Meowth's eyes widened, suddenly interested.

"You just have to come with me, and I'll lead the way to this new world."

* * *

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The persisting banging of Ritchie's fists against the metal door resonated through the entire damp, dark, small room.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Ash's head seem to be pounding at the same rhythm. Against the wall he sat, knees against his chest, head between his knees. He lifted his heavy head and watched him with bleary eyes.

Ritchie's cousin was at the wall opposite to Ash, shaking from the cold of their concrete surrounding. She sat crossed legged, back slouched forwards, teeth clattering as she rubbed her hands back and forth her arms.

"Ritchie," She began, teeth gritted. "Stop! You're banging hasn't helped anyone!"

He continued, as if deaf to her words.

"Ritchie, damn it!" She cried, now angered. "You're _not_ getting Sparky back like this!"

With a final bang, Ritchie slumped against the metal door. His head hung low and his eyes were covered by his grim matted hair. The dim lit room was filled with silence, along with a sudden atmosphere of pending defeat.

Ritchie's chest heaved, arms burning with the strain.

"Ritchie," Ash watched him, heart welling up with pity and compassion. "I'm sorry they took Sparky. I promise we'll get him back as soon as we're out of here."

"And how to do pretend on getting out of here?" Ritchie snapped. He threw himself back, lying down on the concrete floor.

There was silence once again. Above them, the lamp that illuminated the room with a soft reddish light flickered out. They remained in darkness for a moment, before it flicked back on.

"I should have known." The girl said once no answer came. "I knew something was suspicious, and I've heard of scams like these all over the news."

"Scams like these?" Ash's voice was weak, but questioning.

"When I last saw the news, it showed the story of a trainer girl that was kidnapped into a trafficking ring. Since she wasn't from Sinnoh, nobody reported it, and she was only found three months later. She had managed to escape, but by then they has sold all her Pokemon in some black market…" She trailed off, watching Ritchie from the corner of her eye. When she saw no reaction, she continued. "She said that during that time, she had been abused in all kind of different and terrible manners."

She shivered at the thought of it.

"Dear Mew, you think their gunna traffic us? Since we're not natives?" The girl gave him a solemn nod, her begrimed blonde hair falling forwards to cover her face.

Ash shook his head in disbelief. "No, they won't do that to us. We always manage to get out of these situations, right Ritchie?"

Although Ritchie provided no answer, it was as if Ash and Harlow could feel his anger, his mind racing, from where they were sitting. His jaw was tense, and his knuckles were white in his closed fists.

"And even if we don't find a way out of this, you live here in Jubilife right?" Ash turned back to the girl, awaiting her answer.

She nodded again.

"Well, then you're parents should know that you're missing! We've been here for, I don't know, hours? Days? They'll realize that you're missing, and report it to the authorities, right?"

She frowned deeper. "My mother is dead, and my father is never home."

The little color left in Ash's face drowned away, almost drowning the hope inside of him as well.

"I practically live alone."

Ash rubbed his temples. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to… you know."

"It's ok."

"Do you think the police will listen to Brock and Dawn? I know for sure that they already know we're missing."

"They might…" She watched her cousin with worry. "And they might not. How old is Brock?"

"Nineteen."

"They might listen to him since he's not a minor, but then again you have to wait twenty four hours before reporting someone missing, and by then, the people who have us here might… might…I don't know."

"Fuck!" Ritchie cursed loudly, and kicked the door with his foot. The room resonated with the loud bang.

No one said a word, and then the door banged again, though Ritchie's foot remained unmoving. The trio looked at each other, confused.

A loud sequence of banging and clanking began, coming from behind the metal door. Harlow gasped, and scrambled to Ash's side. Ritchie crawled backwards, backing away from the door.

"Their coming!" the girl whispered, voice breaking in fear.

The loud clamor came to an abrupt stop, only to be followed by a slow, metallic creaking sound. On the lower side of the door, a small cat flap that was bolted closed began to open.

The teens watched it, eyes wide and hearts pounding. For a moment, they saw the world outside of the dark room, before a swift hand protruded the cat flap. It threw a glossy bottle of water inside, which bounced with a swooshing sound and rolled down the floor. With that, the hand retrieved and the cat flap was closed one more.

They let released the breath they didn't know they were holding. Together, the three exclaimed:

"Water!"

Ritchie, the closest to it, grasped the bottle in his hand, uncapping it with immeasurable speed. The two others dashed to his side. Their eyes widened with horror as his began to drown it down with big large gulps.

"Ritchie! No! Share!"

Ash reached him first, tearing the bottle from his face. A copious amount spilled down the floor, producing a cry from all of them.

Ritchie snarled, vicious, but before he could leap Ash, his cousin tugged the collar of his shirt and pulled him back with an arm around his chest.

"Stop it, Ritchie!" She struggled keeping him still. Upon hearing her, he stopped, breathing heavy. "What has gotten into you? We all need water, not only you!"

"I'm the one whose Pokemon was taken!" He growled, watching the bottle in Ash's hand. A fat drop of water was trailing down his chin.

"That doesn't give you that right to let us die of thirst!" She croaked. Her lily eyes were shiny with tears, but she was quick to blink them away, behind his back.

Ash looked down at the bottle, small drops of the spilled water dripping down onto his hand. It was cold.

He gulped. "There's enough for all of us."

"How do you say we divide it?" Ritchie snarled, crawling closer to him. His cousin was taken aback, surprised by the unexpected malice in his voice. "It's not like we have any cups."

"Ritchie!" Harlow glared at him. "If we don't share it, we won't survive."

"They'll give us some more in an hour or so, I bet."

"They haven't given us any in hours, days even!"

Ritchie ignored her once again, leaping forwards. Harlow, having him by the collar, yanked him back again. His shirt tore apart with a ripping sound, exposing his chest. They fell back onto the concrete, exhausted.

The girl released his shirt. "Please Ritchie, don't be unreasonable…"

Ash felt his chest constrict, watching the two cousin fight. In the bottle, only half of the water remained.

"Look," Ash reached his free hand down to the ground, finger running against a patch of mud. With one stroke, he drew a division line along the bottle.

"You drink first." He handed the bottle to the girl. She pushed her cousin away before taking the bottle.

"That's not fair!" Ritchie watched as she drank her part, somehow looking hurt. "You've divided the bottle into two, not three!"

Harlow gulped down the last of her water.

"Ah, that was so good." She turned, glaring daggers at her cousin. "You had more than half, Ritchie. You're not getting any more."

Ash drank his half. The water soothed the burning of his dry throat, softened the pounding in his head. Once the last drop was drained down his mouth, the burning returned. For a moment, he regretted having finished it all and having to share. He shook that thought away once he stole a glance at Ritchie.

Said had proceeded to go sulk in a corner.

"I'm sorry." The girl whispered, seeing Ash as he looked at her cousin. "I never knew he was this way. I never thought he'd ever become like this."

Ash shook his head, looking away. "I guess I understand. Being in this room is driving me crazy, and if my Pikachu had been taken away too, I don't know how I would react. I guess we got lucky that we left our Pokemon with Brock and Dawn."

He looked at the girl. She sat in front of him, rubbing her eyes, pushing her hair away from her face. Her movements seemed to be at a snail's pace, slow.

"Y-Yeah, I guess… So." She answered, voice slurred. "It it me? Or-or-or… isn't _really_ hot in here?"

Her voice reached Ash, but seemed distorted, stretched as if talking in slow motion. He blinked his eyes several times, but couldn't get the blurriness out of them.

"It is…" He answered, but his posture gave away, and he collapsed onto the ground.

* * *

It was starting to darken.

"Pika! Pikachu!" the mouse cried, and jumped to the ground from Dawn's shoulder. It scampered along the side walk and disappeared into a corner. Brock stood straight, a spark of hope lightening.

"Pikachu! Wait!" Hope filled his voice. They turned the corner as well, only to see pikachu tugging at the pants of a man. Unfortunately, this was not his trainer.

"Oh, it's a Pikachu!" Roark watched the rodent as it tugged at Lance's pants.

"A familiar one, I'd say" Lance looked downed at it, narrowing his eyes, attempting to remember where he had seen it before.

"Pikachu! What are you…" Brock came running behind it, slowing his step as he reached it. He looked in surprised. "…Lance!"

"Brock!" Lance let out a small laugh. "First time we've met without disasters happening around us…"

"Roark! And… who is this?" Dawn scooped Pikachu up into her arms again, face questioning. A hand flew up to Roark's mouth as he tried to stifle his laugh.

"You don't know?" He added, and hint of Sarcasm in his voice. Dawn shook her head, eyes scanning the Dragon Master.

Lance made a coughing noise. "My name is Lance. Brock and I have met before, back in Kanto."

Roark stifled his laugh completely, and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry Lance." Brock face was sullen. "But a disaster _is_ happening…"

Roark looked at the two, realizing a certain black-haired trainer was missing.

"Where's Ash…?"

Brock and Dawn remaining in silence a moment, unsure of what to say. In the street, a couple of cars raced by, loud music leaking from their windows.

"I think he's in trouble." Brock answered once the music drowned away.

"Trouble?" Lances features now twisted in concern. "What kind of trouble?"

* * *

When morning came, Ash had no way of knowing. The room him and the other two captives had been confined to had no window, no portal to the outside world to tell them the time, the weather, or to know even where they were.

Awoken by heavy footsteps, Ash opened his weighted eyelids. His head felt foggy and clouded.

"Take the girl." A man's voice said. In his hazy vision, Ash distinguished the forms of two men standing in their prison room. "Those are always fun."

"Hydra said we could choose any of them, so… feel free." The other one spoke. His outline seemed skinner than the other, who compared to him stood double his size.

"They still seemed pretty drugged up, so the boys won't be a problem."

Ash's vision returned to some kind of focus, he recognized the men. Those had been the ones which had tricked them into going to the door for release forms!

"N-no..." He tried to speak, but his voice was strangled somewhere in his dry throat.

The mean turned and faced him in surprise.

"He's awake." The skinny one said casually. "The sedative must have had a less effect on him."

"Or he drank less water." The other one offered. He kneeled forwards and grabbed the unconscious girl's wrist. "I heard them fighting over the bottle I threw in yesterday. Poor dumbass."

"Let us _go_." Ash forced out, his voice just over a whisper. "Or else…"

At that, both laughed heartedly. The laughs resonated through the room with a loud echo. The noise pierced inside Ash's head, like a white hot knife protruding through his brain. He groaned, clutching his head in his hand.

"Never make a threat that you cannot carry out, ok kid?" The bigger of the two warned.

The two of them made for the door, dragging the now waking girl with them.

"W-what?" She stuttered. Her body was pulled along the filth of the floor. "Don't…"

Ash hauled himself up and grabbed the closest thing next to him, and with incredible aim, threw it at the man's head.

CLANK!

The empty plastic bottle hit the bigger man on the back of his red head, and fell to bounce back to the floor.

The man stopped, dropping the girl. Ever so slow, he turned to face Ash. His face was contorted in anger, but in less than a moment, it transformed into a hysterical laugh. Ash backed into the wall, watching with large eyes.

The man laughed some more, approaching Ash. With one swift swoop, he grasped a handful of Ash's raven hair, pulling him up from his spot. Ash yelped, hand flying up to tear at the man.

"So, heh heh, if I don't let you out, you'll throw an empty bottle at me?" The man mocked, pulling to his eye length. Ash winced and struggled underneath him, stifling sounds of pain that were threatening to travel out his mouth.

"Nah kid, it don't work that way." With that, the man slammed Ash against the floor. He laughed again.

Ash hit the floor with a crushing force, his lungs squeezing out the air inside them. He coughed and spluttered, now gasping for the missing air. The girl lay on the floor, few feet away from him, unmoving.

Behind him, the smaller man watched, annoyed.

"Harold, let's go. Hydra is waiting." He said.

The taunting man rolled his eyes at his partner. "I'm just putting him in his place, Percy."

Then, his eyes widened, illuminated with a striking idea.

"Let's take him to Hydra." He delivered a kick the defeated boy's side, laughing. "That should put him in his place."

* * *

"So, if I got it right, you're telling me that Ash and his two friends disappeared when going to fetch _release_ forms when losing at the tournament?"

Brock and Dawn nodded as the walked down the same street that had lead them to the stadium. This time, the street was emptier than the day before. It was still early in the morning; the sunlight was just beginning to leak through the cracks between the buildings.

"Since when to tournaments require release forms?" Dawn asked.

"That's why this is so suspicious." Roark said. "They don't."

They entered the Indoors arena.

The lobby was empty this time, and two security guards stood at the entrance leading towards the assignment area.

"We need to pass through to the assignment area, sir." Roark told the men. They shook their heads. One of them pointed at a sign besides the entrance.

It read: "_Entry permitted from 10 a.m. to 11 p.m."_

"Sir, it's urgent we go through, you see, my friends here have lost ... Something." The guard shook their head again.

"I can't only let you in till ten, sir." One of them said. "It's only eight. I'll have to ask you to wait here until then."

"You don't understand!" Brock intermitted, face red. "My friend-"

The security guard lifted his cane in a threatening manner. "Stand back sir, and if not I'll have to show you the way out."

Brock backed down, fuming.

"Pika!" The mouse jumped off Dawn's shoulder and bolted through the guard's feet, and down the hall.

"Hey!" One of them shouted. He turned and ordered: "Return your pokemon to its pokeball!"

"We don't have it…" Roark shrugged.

"Damn it." One of the guards ran down the hall, following the yellow blur of a rodent.

"Pikachu will come back once he finds something." Dawn assured Brock, but not quite sure herself.

* * *

As Ash was dragged down the underground of the stadium, he saw some of the most terrifying things he had seen in his life.

Scattered along the facility, several intricate looking machine were left about. Similar to surgical tables, they were equipped with gruesome accessory with sharp edges, needles and tweezers, saws and clamps, leathers and buckle restraints. They varied in sizes; accommodated any pokemon or human, but every single one was left stained with a suspicious dry red substance.

"W-what is this place?" Ash questioned as he tripped along. The large man had a death grip on his wrist, dragging him through the hall.

The man provided no answer, and they continued into a new section of the facility.

Soon, there were fewer tables and tools, but more cages. Piled one on top of the other, against the walls, each one held a living creature; but none that Ash could directly identify. The cages varied in size, holding creatures the size of a buneary, to the size of a torterra.

Each living deformity laid defeated, moaning or groaning, skin translucent and pulsing. There were Plant pokemon whose leaves had been pulled apart, reveling living organs inside. Birds fluttered weakly in their cages, featherless or stripped of any characteristic that would have allowed recognition.

There was one creature, the size of his own Pikachu, which lay in its cage. The skin had peeled around it in a pile of flesh, translucent muscle in its place. But taking up two thirds of the cage, was a large tumor-like mass growing from its back, squishing the creature underneath it. The tumor was squashed against the cage's railing, with several blowholes oozing out dark green slime. It trailed down the rails and onto the floor with a _plop_!

Ash felt uneasy, lightheaded from the smell of putrefaction and death. The moans of these deformities, the continuous _plop! plop!_ of slime hitting the floor twisted something in his stomach.

He closed his eyes.

"What are you gunna do to me?" His voice broke in his throat. A knot was becoming increasingly hard to swallow.

Soon enough the creatures no longer resembled pokemon. Just deformed corpses of something that used to be normal.

They pushed him through a door, into a lab. Its fosforecent lights made the place glow white, giving the place an acute contrast to the rest of the facility. The swinging doors swooshed closed, and with them the sounds of suffering were drowned out.

"What do you want?" Ash tugged at his wrist as the men pulled him towards a table that looked awfully familiar to the machinery outside. "No!"

In front of him, were two operating tables. On one lay a pikachu. Tubes and metal rods penetrated its body through gaping holes on it's now bare skin. Only small tuffs of yellow fur hadn't been shaved off and were stained with dry blood. Through the disfiguration, Ash recognized it.

_Sparky?_

The sense of terror he had been bravely holding back broke throughout him like a dam, and invaded throughout his body. His heart, constricting his chest, pounded so loudly he could barely listen to anymore noises. Fear crawled up his spine and his neck, time slowing to where his every blink felt like an eternity.

He felt hot.

His abdomen spasmed, making his upper body lurch forwards. He fell to his knees, and before he could even attempt to hold it in, his vomit splattered onto the ground. He felt himself convulse for a moment, before another wave of nausea travelled through him.

Ash coughed with heavy heaves for air. His whole body trembled.

"Oh, that's not good."

Ash lifted his head weakly. A short old man stood besides Sparky's table. His gray hair was pushed back from his long face. He hunched forwards, seeming as if he had no neck underneath his head. His wide blue eyes were surrounded by a multitude or wrinkles, the same as the rest of his body.

His white lab coat was severely stained with blood.

"I'm afraid you'll have to clean the floor once you strapped him to the table." The elder patted at the empty table in front of him.

"Motherfucker." The man referred to as Harold delivered a kick to Ash's side, sending him across the floor. Ash spluttered and coughed some more. "I hate cleaning up puke."

The one named Percy eyed the pikachu wearily.

"Why is this one connected to the electromagnetic radiation apparatus, sir?" He asked. The old man laughed.

"I was bored, had nothing to do while the concoction was finishing."

"Concoction?"

"Yes, indeed. I think I finally have it." The old man answered. "And this lucky boy will be the first to try it."

"You always say you have it, Doctor Hydra." The large man's voice hid a dark sense of sarcasm. "Just looking at every living creature outside this room proves you don't have it!"

He bent forwards a grasped Ash's wrist once more, pulling him to his feet. "Help me out here, Percy." He called.

Ash numbly struggled as the two men laid him across the cold metal table. Leather restraints went around his wrist, his ankles, and forearms.

"Who are you people?" Ash spat, eyes glaring at the three men before him. The large one pulled a lever at the side of the table, and in one swift movement the table was in a vertical position, holding Ash up to face them. "What the hell did you do to those pokemon?"

The old man approached Ash, and ran a disgusting wrinkled hand across his face. Ash would of backed away, the but restraints held him still while a shiver traveled down his back.

"I was making them better, but you see…" He pulled out a vial the size of a dictionary, the thickness of his fist. Inside of it was a thick, light blue substance. "I didn't have the right resources for doing that."

"But now, don't you worry, I've figured everything out, and you will be fine!" He added, merriness in his voice. Behind him, the two other assistants scoffed.

"Please, just let us go, we won't say anything." Ash pleaded, eye watching the thick syringe at the end of the vial. "You already killed the pikachu, please don't kill me."

They laughed in unison. "Oh, the dear pikachu is not dead. We're not killing anybody!" the lever was pulled again, and the table slammed to its horizontal original position.

"Percy, bring the filter, and Harold, pass me the tentacle." He ordered at the two minions. The skinny one brought a cylindrical machine set on a gurney, which had an odd net inside. Attached to it, several cables. The other man brought a large, transparent tube. It had a button on one end of the nozzle, and inside of the transparent tube, you could see a sharp needle like line.

They connected the tube to the machine, and set it besides the table. The old man slipped some sort of cap into Ash's finger, and a machine integrated into the table began a quick beeping sound.

"Calm down, I don't need your heart rate to be that fast."

Ash recognized the machine as one he'd seen in a Poke center before, seeing it connected to injured pokemon of his. It told him their heart beat.

_Beep…beep…beep…_

The old man grabbed the tube, and clicked the button. Out of its end, and sharp screwdriver knife poked out, like a pen. One of his assistants cut off Ash's shirt with a scissor and tore it out from underneath him.

"Is it sterile?" Hydra asked. They nodded.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

"I said calm down, boy." He clicked the button again, and the knife retracted into the tube. He the tip of it placed it underneath Ash's belly button.

"Please," Ash pleaded one last time. He struggled keeping his breath steady. "Don't do this."

"I'm only going to make you better." The scientist assured.

Then, he clicked the button. The knife pierced through the skin instantaneously, blood immediately leaking into the transparent tube.

"Nggh!"

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

A gasp stifled somewhere in his throat, but in a moment Ash felt his whole body go numb. With wide eyes, he watched as his own blood flowed through the now red tube and into the cylindrical machine.

"I just pierced your abdominal aorta. Most of your blood will bleed out in less than two minutes or so." Doctor Hydra explained, a wrinkling smile stretched across his face. There was a twinkling fascination in his old blue eyes as he too watched the blood pour out into the cylindrical machine. "It's the largest artery in the abdominal cavity."

Ash gasped for air.

In that moment, he realized he just had about one minute left of life.

He remembered how Pikachu's fur felt against his neck, and now wondered what would happen to him once he was left trainer less. He thought about his mother, and if she would even know that her son was dead. He tried to imagine what Ritchie would do once they brought him in, and he would see Sparky deformed and cut open. He tried, but failed as his blood splashed into the machine at the same rate of his now slowing heart beat.

_Beep…Beep...Beep…_

_Splash…Splash…Splash…_

"Just sleep now…" The scientist read something out to read, which vaguely looked like the trainer's card they had taken from him before. "…Ash Ketchum."

Ash's head lolled to a side, eyes fluttering halfway closed. The feeling of uselessness overwhelmed him, and then he couldn't feel anymore. He couldn't hear anymore. He couldn't see anymore. He knew no more.

_Beeeeeeeeep…._

* * *

"Stop! Get back here!" The Guard shouted, lagging several meters behind the scurrying pikachu. Pikachu zigzagged between several benches, losing itself from the guard's sight.

"Where'd it go?"

Reaching a food stand, the agile rodent jump up a column and scampered onto its roof. Pikachu's ears twitched as he heard the guard calling for it again, not far away.

_I must hurry!_

An air vent was to his right. With one quick Iron tail, the cover fell off. He crawled in. An unfamiliar, off-putting smell greeted Pikachu inside. It mixed in with the smell of chemicals and rotten aliments, coming from somewhere in the vent.

Somewhere in this mix of smells, lay the ever subtle scent of fear. It was carried from somewhere through the ventilation system, making an exit into the stadium through the air vent he had entered.

_Fear? _

He followed the smell. It traveled left, right, right , left, down, down and more down following it. He descended lower into ventilation, till the air vents he passed no longer filtered in light, only darkness.

Pikachu pawed around carefully, no longer able to see. The smell was to strong, he kept his little nose scrunched in disgust. The curiosity to know what it was tore at him greatly, but no light was provided, thus he saw nothing.

Then, a white light leaking in from an air vent. Pikachu's tail straightened in excitement, running quickly towards it.

What he saw was pure horror.

_Pikapi?_

There was a surgery going on. A long cut sliced Ash's flesh from the base of his neck to his waist, and the skin had been pulled apart. Pikachu saw his ribs and every gushing internal organ inside of his trainer. A cylindered machine was mixing what looked like _blood_ with a blue liquid a man injected into it from a large, thick vial.

Pikachu stifled a cry of terror.

"Here…" An old scientist pulled an organ out from Ash's body and slopped it on a metallic disk. His assistant put the dish elsewhere. "He won't needing that."

Pikachu eye's watered with tears of terror and agony. He wanted to look away, but couldn't. He wanted to go down and _kill_ them, make them stop touching Ash's body, make them scream in agony from all the pain he would cause them. But he couldn't. Not alone.

The scientist laughed.

"I swear, I got the formula. This one is it. This boy right here is going to make me very, very rich."

* * *

Aaaah weren't expecting that were you?

I can't explain how much I hated to write these first two chapters. This one was incredibly long (15,000 so words). Maybe too long? Meh, that's just how I write. I don't know if it came out as gory as I imagined it, but hey! I tried.

Question: _Isn't Ash supposed to be caught in the middle of a war? What war?_ Answer: The war I talk about in the summary will probably start in chapter four (take in mind that this is chapter two), but chapter three is where things start to get goood :P

Was this a good cliffhanger?

Btw, I would love a review XDD

I was wondering, would Paul or that Barry, character be good in a war? I have an idea of fitting them into the story, but I'm not quite sure. I'm thinking about it…


	5. The Halls

**A/N:** I really love music. I really hate that it is so hard to write into a story.

Later, Brock referrers to that time when Gary wrote "Ash is a loser" on the sign the pointed towards Cerulean city.

* * *

Chapter Three: The halls

* * *

"What is Lance doing?"

Roark seemed unsure. "He's investigating something for professor Rowan, but I'm not sure where he went." He held out his pokegear and showed it to Dawn. "He said that if we needed him, we could call him to his pokegear."

Roark, Dawn and Brock sat in the lobby, waiting for Pikachu to come back. An hour had passed, but they need another hour before they could enter the assigning room. The guard that had run after Pikachu had returned, fatigued and out of breath.

"You'll have to look for him yourself, later." He had muttered in between pants.

Brock's leg shook in a nervous tick. "Why… Why is Pikachu taking so long?"

Almost as if his queue, Pikachu appeared behind the two guards. Dawn stood her chair, smiling.

"Pikachu!" She called. The pokemon's fur stood, buzzing with electricity. His small snout growled in anger.

The guards turned in their heels, facing the Pikachu. One of them began, "Go back to you train-"

Before he could finish, Pikachu let out a small scream of hatred. A thick lightning bolt charged from the rodent, and at the guards. Their bodies contorted as volts of electricity traveled through their every fiber, strangling cries somewhere in their throats.

Dawn gasped, and they all watched wide-eyed. "Pikachu, stop!" She cried.

He stopped, the lightning bolt cut off from the red sacs in his cheeks. The two guards collapsed to the ground, twitching. Their blue uniform sizzled, small trails of smoke lifted into the air from them. Pikachu remained in his spot, breathing heavily.

Roark stood, watching the pokemon with careful eyes as it still shook in fury. "…Pikachu?" The pokemon lifted his head, to reveal his small brown eyes filled with glass-like tears. "Pika!" He cried, little voice filled with agony. He shook his head, and brushed the tears away. Electricity still traveled down his yellow fur. "Pika! Pikachu!"

"Pikachu…" Roark lifted his hands in his airs, showing himself as no harm. "…I need you to calm down."

"Pikapi! Pi! Pi!" The pikachu pointed his arms in desperate motions down the hall. "Pika!" He scampered down the corridor, disappearing into the halls that lead to the assignment room.

The three in the lobby stared at the bodies of the guards in horror. Dawn looked at Brock, questioning. Roark dared to step over the corpses, and took a ring of keys from one of their belt.

"I think we need to close this place down." Roark headed towards the entrance, trying to fit the keys into the slot. "People will want to come in less than an hour." One key slipped in, and with a few twists, the glass doors were closed.

"Quick! Pull them into the hall!" Roark demanded at the two standing teenagers. Brock took a step back, face twisted in horror.

"You want us to _what?_" Brock shook his head, pulling Dawn back as well. "We can't hide bodies!"

"Bodies?" Dawn whispered, eyes stuck on the smoking uniforms. "You mean… they're dead?"

Roark sprinted over the guards. He leaned over, grasping one of the men's ankles, and slid the limp body into the hall.

"Listen," Roark's voice sounded irritated. "Pikachu wouldn't react that way if something hadn't happened to Ash!" A few people passed the front window, but the body remaining in the lobby seemed to go unnoticed.

"Hurry, damn it!"

Dawn shook herself off. She sprinted to his side, carefully stepping over the body.

"You're right." She forced out. "I've never seen Pikachu be brutal unless Ash was in trouble." Her face contorted into one of disgust, but she reached down and grasped the man's ankle. Together, she and Roark pulled the man into the hall.

"Please Brock, come!" The girl pleaded. "We have to find, Ash!"

Pikachu returned to the lobby. "Pikachu! Pikachu!" He waved to arms again, signaling down the hall again. "Pikaa!" He urged. Brock hesitated for a moment, but entered the hall. "We really shouldn't be doing this. Do you know how much trouble we are in?"

They followed Pikachu, finding themselves in the empty assignment area. The screen that once showed trainers was switched off, and the room was dark since no lights were turned off.

"It seems eerie," Dawn whispered. Their every step echoed into the corners of the high ceilings. "I've never been to an empty stadium before".

Pikachu stopped before a door, lifting his paws onto its metal frame. He was well below the door handle, his tiny claws scratching the door, attempting to push it open. "Pika!" He called, beckoning them towards the door.

Brock grabbed the handle and pulled it down, but the door didn't nudge. He turned to Roark, eyeing the keys in his hands.

* * *

_They were sitting, and just talking about everything, up in a hill that overlooked beautiful scenery._

_The three kids laughed as the sun began to hang lower in the skyline, bathing the place in a soft orange light. In a few moments, it would begin to set._

"_Dawn, you should of seen Ash's face!" Brock sat, back against the trunk of a thick tree. "He was so angry that Gary would write that on that sign, and the fact that it was so dumb, was what it made it funnier."_

"_Hey!" Ash sat a few feet in front of him, legs crossed and a sleeping pikachu sprawled upon his legs. "Back then, I really did think it was a big deal! I mean, a lot of people saw that sign!"_

"_Yes, because everybody who saw that sign immediately knew who Ash was." Brock added, sarcasm in his voice._

"_I bet that if Gary did that now, they'd revoke his trainer's id." Dawn giggled. She patted Piplup's feathery head as she watched the sun lower into the horizon._

"_Is it just here in Sinnoh, or is it all over that they have started applying these restrictions?" Ash pondered aloud. _

"_It's been all over." Brock explained. "They say that because so many people are becoming trainers that there's an overload of kids that have trained pokemon that have absolutely nothing left to do with their life. Thus the vandalism, trainer gangs and thugs. They use pokemon to get their way."_

"_But that isn't right." Ash frowned. Pikachu yawned and stretched in his lap. "Why don't they try to compete in championships? Win something?"_

"_Because out of, let's say, five hundred trainer's, only half will get their badges in time, and only half of those will move into official stages of the league competition, and only one will come out being a winner. I don't even want to start the process of competing against the elite four to gain you're title as a champion."_

"_But my mom won as a coordinator, and she was great! In fact, she told me that when she travelled around competing in contests, she never faced too many troublesome trainers." Dawn said._

"_Remember those kids we met the other day? Selling pokemon?" Ash's eyes narrowed, reminiscing the memory. "They were trainers, just like me." He added, a level of disgust now distinguishable in his voice._

_Dawn stopped petting Piplup's head, scrunching her nose. "You're not like them Ash." She assured._

_Brock laughed. "The day the sky falls down and kills us all will be the day that you, Ash Ketchum, will sell Pikachu... Or any Pokemon for that matter." _

_Ash scratched his head, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess." He dropped his hand down, smile wiping away. "I just don't understand what the deal with people is now. I mean, we can't even sleep out camping with a fire on, because it might give our position away to thieves or some other idiot that would try to do something to us."_

"_I know!" Dawn agreed with frustration, nodding her head. "And now, it's almost impossible to find a free place to stay beside the centers, now that everybody thinks that letting strange trainers into their houses will get them killed or mugged. When's the last time we stayed at a place that wasn't the pokecenter?"_

"_Heh, makes me remember the good old times." Brock reminisced. "Ash, 'member when you, I and Misty practically stayed in a different house every other day, without even knowing the owners? They would be the one inviting us in."_

"_Really?" Dawn beamed._

"_Yeah!" Ash nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Felt like years ago."_

"_How long has it been since we've been on the road together?" Brock counted on his fingers, unsure._

"_I think…" Ash threw his head back in thought. "… Five, six years?"_

"_Six!" Brock finished counting. They shared another laugh. "Six good long years."_

"_Six?" Dawn sounded exasperated. "But-but that would make you ten when you first left your home!" _

_Ash nodded slowly, putting his around out behind him and leaning back. "Yep, that's right."_

"_I thought you had to be twelve to be a trainer!"_

"_Back when we left, the league allowed ten year olds out onto the streets." Brock explained. "It was only a few years ago that they changed the law into twelve, and now they're going to change it so that you have to be sixteen to leave home as a trainer."_

"_What?" Ash and Dawn asked in unison, twisting their heads around to face Brock._

"_Yeah! There's been a couple of protest's going on lately because of that, because trainer's that haven't competed in official leagues will get their licenses revoked. There's also another law their gunna pass so that you'll get your license revoked unless you've participated in official championships and tournaments in the two last years. You know, to get rid of all of those extra vocations-less trainers."_

"_Would they take their pokemon away too?"_

_Brock shrugged._

_Dawn and Ash turned back to watch the sunset. In front of them, the sun had tinted the sky in orange and purple shades. _

"_I don't know if I'm ok with that." Ash's eyes scanned the horizon, several lights across the skyline begging to light up. "But then again, trainer's like the ones we met the other day should get their pokemon taken away."_

"_The deal isn't weather your being a delinquent or not. If you have a trainer's ID, but just have given up or decided to change careers, they might try to revoke you're license to ever battle with your pokemon. And if you do battle, they'd take your pokemon away permanently" _

_For a moment, in Ash head flicked an image of him challenging Gary. Gary would decline, but not because of arrogance, but rather in fear of losing his pokemon._

_They remained in silence for many minutes. The sky around them got darker and darker, until only a thin line or orange remained across the horizon. _

"_You know, everything is changing around us." Ash broke the silence. "But even though everything seems to be going to the dumps, I'll be happy."_

"_Oh, really?" Dawn's curious voice piped._

"_Of course." Ash grabbed the curled pikachu in his lap and pulled him closer. "I'll be happy because I'll have you guys. I'll be happy because I'll have my Pokemon, I'll have Pikachu."_

_The other two teen's watched him with sweet smiles, until he broke out laughing._

"_Man, that was so corny." He woke Pikachu up as he held him against his chest, laughing._

_They joined him in his laugh, proceeding to tease him about his sudden outburst of corniness._

* * *

Ash was awoken from his dream by the sound of several voices singing.

He didn't understand what they were saying, but pried his eyes open in attempt to stop the singing men. Instead, he was in the same lab he had lost consciousness in, and the only other being he could spot from his place on the surgical table was the old Dr. Hydra, humming along.

The voices were now accompanied with the music of guitars, drums maybe… he couldn't tell.

"What…" He began, but he was so thirsty that the words died in his throat.

The scientist turned, a wide smile stretching across his wrinkled face. He reached forwards to turn down the volume of a radio beside him. As soon as he did, the voices and guitars disappeared.

"Oh this is lovely!" He chimed, clapping his hands together. "You're awake!"

Ash blinked several times, blinded by the lamp hanging above him. He tried to move, but the restraints were still on. His body pulsed strangely, and a strange ache he had never experienced before cramped his muscles. He felt no particular paralyzing pain as he expected.

The grey-haired man checked an IV bag hanging above Ash. Inside, a transparent violet liquid swirled inside.

"What is that…" Ash croaked, following the small tube that lead the liquid into his arm. Hydra chuckled.

"That is your hyper potion. I liquefied the spray so that it could be drinkable as well. I injected into your blood stream. It would act faster that way." He looked away from the bag, and looked down at the boy. "How do you feel?"

Ash blinked again. "Thirsty." He answered.

"Aah," Hydra reached over and grabbed a bottle. He placed in on the table, and began to untie the leather restraints. "I assume you'd rather drink than attack me."

Ash stared at him blankly.

"Let's sit you up." He said once the restraints were off both arms. He slipped an arm around Ash's torso, and pulled one of the boy's arms over his shoulders and pulled him up. Once sitting, Ash shrugged away from the man's grasp.

"Here" He handed him the bottle. Inside, there was the same purple liquid as in the IV bag.

Ash eyed it suspiciously, and looked up at the man with the same look. The man placed it on the table, sighing.

"Listen, boy." He said, voice changing into a more serious tone. "I just opened up your body in less than two hours ago, and you don't even wince in pain."

He jerked his chin in the direction of his chest, hands on his waist. "If you don't believe me, look underneath the robe."

Ash looked down, touching the white medical robe he hadn't realized he was wearing. Underneath, he peeked at his naked body. In fact, a thick jiggered line ran from in between his collar bones to beneath his belly button. It was closed up by white stitches, the flesh around it red and inflamed.

He gasped and pulled the robe closed.

"What did you do to me?" Ash questioned with his raspy voice. He watched the scientist with a renewed fear.

"By the looks of it, nothing bad." The man answered, and began collecting small vials from another table. The cylindrical machine stood beside him, empty, but stained inside with what used to be blood.

"My blood!" Ash reached forwards, beginning to untie the restraints at his ankles. "Where'd it go? What did you do to it?" The only discomfort was the strange aching, his dry throat and a tight constricting in his chest.

"I put it back inside you."

Ash stopped, and looked up to see if the man was serious. Before he could ask any more questions, the scientist said, "I'm only letting you go because I believe you are the one."

"The one?"

"The one which will survive what I've done. The one experiment that was successful." He began to walk out of the lab, but Ash called after him.

"Stop, dammit!" Ash's every word scratched his throat merciless, but he demanded nonetheless. "Where are you going? What did you do to me?"

The Scientist stopped, and turned around to look at the boy. He sighed. "I have to leave. The alarm sounded several minutes ago, meaning that somebody has breached into the facility. My two assistants are seeing if they could eliminate the intruders, but urged me to leave. The place will self-destruct in a less than half of hour."

Ash's eyes widen. "Self-destruct?"

"Yes, you heard right." He stuffed the vials he collected into his pockets. "All my work will be destroyed unless Harold and Percy stop whoever has infiltrated the facility. All my work… except you, of course. This is why I'm letting you go."

"Since I can't take you with me, I might as well let you go." He continued. "The fact that you're not reacting to the Hyper Potion means that you might as well been a success. I must go now."

With that he strode for the doors. Pushing them open, he stopped for moment before leaving.

"Ash, I recommend taking that drinkable potion with you; it'll allow to keep going until you get the chance for real rest." He pointed his finger at the table besides Ash. "All those bottles contain it. Take them with you."

With that he left, and the door closed with a swoosh.

Ash sat there for a moment, until the reality of the situation hit him. He hurried and untied the leather restraints, and jumped off the table. Once his feet hit the ground, he felt a surge of pain travel up his body. Ash collapsed to the ground.

"Agh!" He yelped, curling on the floor. The IV tube snapped out of his arm, needle pulled through his skin. His whole torso felt a hot stabbing sensation, as if knifes were protruding through his ribs and abdomen.

He felt hot, very hot, and found himself vomiting a moment later. Heaving for air, Ash clutched his chest, pain taking over every thought in his mind. He lay there for several seconds, until he was able to open his brown eyes when the pain somewhat faded.

He rolled onto his back, weak. On the edge of the table above him, the bottles of purple liquid stood, almost taunting. A puddle of red lay beside his head, catching the corner of his eyes.

_Blood?_

In horrible realization, he turned his head away from the blood he had vomited across the floor. Panic filled his every fiber of being, and gathering all his will, he pulled himself up.

"Nnggh!" Ash strangled the cry of pain through his gritted teeth, arm shooting forward to grasp the table. With another pull, he hauled himself onto his feet. Gasping for air, he leaned over the table and grasped a bottle.

Throwing the cap aside, he drowned the unknown potion in a matter of seconds. He dropped the bottle when no more drops leaked out of it. Letting himself fall on the table, half of his body hanged off the side as he rested. His head was spinning madly, the tiles of the floor that were in his vision were swirling around his eyes at the same rate. Ash brought his palms to his eyes, waiting for the pain to pass.

Then, it stopped.

He was no longer dangling off the table in pain and in defeat, but rather dangling in the table for no apparent reason.

The world had stopped spinning, and the throbbing pain felt as if it was suddenly crumbled into a ball, like paper, and then burned. The only discomfort left behind was the strange aching feeling the he had experienced before.

Taking in a huge breath of air, he pushed himself up, amazed by the sudden burst of energy. He scanned the room spotting his bag, along with the bag of Ritchie and his cousin, on a table. Discarding the robe, he took the clothes from his bag. Inside, everything seemed to be in its place.

"At least they didn't steal anything." He mumbled, voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

He piled the purple bottles of potion into his bag, along with Ritchie's poke belt from his bag, and made to leave the door, incredibly confused.

"Pika…"

He stopped at the door, hand already pushing it open. Every sensation in his body seemed to be heightened in that very moment, a shiver prickling down his back.

"ka-chu…"

_Pikachu?_

The first thought that crossed his mind was of Pikachu befalling the hands of these sadists. His heart twisted in worry, and a moment later he whirled around, searching for the small cry.

"Ka…"

Then, he remembered with terrible guilt, Sparky on another table. He couldn't spot it him, yet there was another table with a cloth cast over it. He stumbled towards it, and with a quick pull, yanked the fabric off the table.

There lay the defeated pikachu. Wires still connected to it, a machine besides it humming loudly. It had been left there to die.

"No…" Ash whispered, and began removing the wires in needle with as much care as he could. "I'll get you out of here, buddy. Don't worry, don't cry." Guilty as he could possibly be, Ash thanked whatever being in his head, thankful that it was not his own Pikachu on the table.

Tears began to pricked in his eyes, watching Sparky squirm painfully, as he removed everything attached to his small body. Needles and tubes came out from underneath his fur, stained in the crimson of his blood. He chocked a sob.

"Everything will be alright." He lied, not only to the pikachu, but to himself.

* * *

There was a collective sense of dread in the atmosphere.

Dawn breathed heavy breathes, lightheaded and dizzy. A smell of decomposition had filled their nostrils as they walked further down the maze the place was, but the sight of putrefied bodies still had to come into their sight.

The hall they travelled was dark and damp, barely lit, and made up of crusty red bricks. Along the walls were doors bolted closed, and machines and surgical tables against the walls.

"I called Lance." Roark spoke, but it was soon followed by a gag. He squeezed his eyes closed, his eyes even pricking from the smell. Brock and Dawn nodded, but said nothing. They had given up calling for Ash's name when the stench had gotten stronger.

"Do you hear that?" Brock whispered. A persistent faint banging could be heard.

"Ash?" Dawn called once again, and the banging got louder.

The group of three followed the source of the sound, till reaching the door which it came from. It was similar to others, with cat flaps sealed and bolted, large twistable lock on their sides.

"Help! Open the door!" Could be heard faintly coming from inside. "Open the damned door!"

Brock and Roark seized the twistable lock, and at once, pulled. It didn't budge, despite the unified attempt from the two.

"Stand back," Roark pulled a pokeball from his belt. With one flick, its inhabitant was amongst them. With a magnificent roar, the massive Rampardos barely fit in the hall. It head hang low as to not hit the ceiling, and dark eyes watched its trainer in concern.

"You, in there!" Roark banged the door. From inside, the screaming and banging stopped. "I need you to stand away from the door!" They couldn't hear whoever was inside step away from the door, but Roark waited for a few moments.

Assuming that no one was near the door, Roark ordered, "Rampardos, open this door!"

The massive dinosaur pushed itself back onto the wall behind him, tail folding sideways, before launching its round head forwards at the door. The rusty steel held no strength to the impact, falling forwards into the room. A small yelp of surprise could be heard from inside.

The Rampardos pulled its head out from the door, shifting uncomfortable in the hall. Following behind, Ritchie and his bewildered cousin poked out from inside. They were covered in dust, and ragged looking.

"Ritchie! Harlow!" Brock cried in relief. He rushed forwards to examine the two. "Are you two ok?" They nodded warily, eyes wide and alert. Dawn frowned, holding an upset Pikachu in her arms.

"Guys…" She began, "Where's… Where's Ash?"

Ritchie shook his head, eyes sweeping down at the floor. His cousin attempted to talk.

"They took hi-"

There was the quick sound of something cutting the air, and blood splattered out the wall behind the blond girl. She screamed and grasped her arm, falling to her knees.

"Harlow!" Ritchie cried, dropping to her side. She stared in horror as blood gushed out from a slick wound on her arm.

Brock and Dawn rushed forwards to help, and the Rampardos roared defensively. Their eyes turned down the hall, only to meet two men walking towards them.

"I've said it before." The larger of the two said. He walked tall and in a confident stride, followed by his blue haired partner. "Don't aim to wound. Aim to kill, Percy." His blue-haired partner glared forward, and gave a quick nod. In his palm, a hand gun with a silencing tube over the muzzle. Swung over his shoulder, a bigger, scarier gun.

"Who are you?" Roark demanded, stepping forwards beside his Rampardos. Brock and Ritchie dragged the injured girl back, and the dinosaur twisted in its spot, tail coiling defensively around its trainer.

"Put the Pokemon in its ball." Harold ordered, providing no answers.

"Our hand gun might not shoot through its armor-" He took the hand gun away from his partner. "-but with seven shots of Percy's machine gun here and we'll have it drop dead."

Dawn whimpered, shivering in fear behind Brock. Now held up by Richie, his cousin bit back the tears of fear and pain.

"If you want to live, do what I say." The man said, a tone of finality in his voice. Besides him, his partner swung the portable machine gun forwards and looped his finger into the trigger.

Roark clutched his fists tightly and gritting his teeth in anger. Hesitant and unsure, he realized that his Rampardos was their only means of protection. Without it, he and the others would be left without cover or means of defending themselves from the guns.

"It's now or never." The blue-haired man clocked the gun.

Without waiting any further, Roark withdrew the dinosaur into its pokeball, despite its protest.

Behind him, the terrified trainers watched, hearts beating madly. The larger man laughed hysterically.

"Why you'd think we'd let you live is beyond me." With that, both men lifted their artillery, and took aim. Roark widened his eyes, and stepped back, shaking his head.

"No! D-don't!"

"Get down!"

The terrified group dropped to the floor, and something big and thick swooshing over their heads. A dragonite shot forwards for the men. Eyes wide, they began firing their guns at the monstrous dragon, repetetive bangs echoing through the halls. The bullet's bounced off the thick scales, and the dragonite grasped the one with the machine gun. Dragging him into the air, the dragon gave a roar of fury and slammed the man up onto the ceiling.

His head cracked backwards, and the machine gun fell from his grasp. The dragon persisted forwards, the bricks falling off the ceiling before dropping the man back onto the floor.

"Percy!" Harold called, incredulous. The man didn't rise.

He shot forwards, attempting to slip in between the dragonite. It roared and snarled its teeth, swinging its arms for him. He jumped back and fired a shot at its wing. The bullet tore through the softer membrane. It gave a whine and stumbled onto the wall.

He dashed in between it and ran down the hall.

"Dragonite, return."

Lance held the pokeball up, and the red laser returned the dragon.

On the floor, Dawn and everybody let out a great sigh of relief.

"You couldn't have had better timing" Brock gave a nervous chuckle. Lance stepped forwards and offered a hand. Helping Brock out, he proceeded to help the next.

"I went looking for Team Galactic, but you guys seem to have found something worse." He spotted the blood spilled down the blond girl's arm. "Are you ok?" His gentle hand grasped her arm.

"Mm-mh." The girl nodded, teeth gritted. "I think a bullet just grazed me."

* * *

Ash stumbled pass the hall filled with deformities. In his head, the clock was ticking.

_Only half an hour before self destruction, only half an hour._

Leaving the pitiful beings behind, he tried to convince himself that it would be better if they died, instead of prolonging their terrible life by saving there. Anyways, there was no time. With Sparky wrapped in a blanket in his arms, he decided to not look down at the pikachu, afraid to find it dead in his arms.

"Nngh!" The pain was sprouting slowly again, but he continued forwards. He made it out of the hall, only to find two other halls, cutting into different directions.

He was lost.

"No!" He didn't recognize the door where Ritchie and his cousin had been left in, or even knew if they would still be there. None the less, he took the right.

Ash walked, head buzzing, in front of him, the hall cut to a right, and he could not see what came next.

From the end of the hall, the man he recognized as Harold ran forwards and into the hall, straight for Ash's direction.

Fear grabbing his chest, Ash's found himself stumbling backwards, as the man ran forwards.

"You! You!" The man cried, running with a hand gun in his hand pointed at him. "Stay there, don't move." But Ash's mind was buzzing so loud that he barely heard him, and the gun in his hand didn't quite register in his head.

He found himself turning to run for the other direction, but tripped miserably and hit the ground face first.

Harold reached him, and grasping the back of his collar shirt, pulled him onto his feet, holding him close to his chest. "I'm surprised you're alive." He growled.

From the end of the hall, Lance and Roark appeared as well, Ritchie following behind them.

"Ash!" Lance called, freezing upon sighting Ash. Roark came to a halt as well, Ritchie crashing behind him

"If you come any closer, the boy dies." Harold yelled across the corridor, now holding the gun to Ash's temple. He walked back, a weak and tired Ash dragged along. Still in his arms, the bloody Pikachu wrapped in the blanket.

And then, when they were at the other end of the hall, Harold pushed Ash forwards onto the ground and dashed away.

"Ash!" They called again, gathering around him "Ash! Wake up!"

Ash's opened his heavy eyelids, and rolled onto his back. Eye's glassy, he found himself looking at the blurry figures of Lance, Roark and Ritchie.

"Sparky!" The latter tore the pikachu from his arms, and stood to examine his pokemon.

"Oh mew, what did they do to him?" He heard Roark asking. Ash thought they spoke of Sparky, but then realized they were referring to himself. "His eyes! Lance, let's get him out of here, now!"

"What wrong with my eyes…?" Ash mumbled, but was followed by a violent cough. His body heaved to the side, and blood splattered from his lips onto the dirt ground. The buzzing grew louder.

Squeezing his eyes shut once more, he curled up on the dirt, hands grasping chest. "Oh mew, it hurts." His whole body shook.

"Ash, we need you to get up, let us help you." Lance grabbed his forearm and attempted to pull him up. But his body seemed to be locked in that fetal position, unable to move elsewhere.

"I'm sorry! But I can't move!" Ash cried, tears pricking in his eyes. He turned his necked to look up at Lance. "You have to leave! The place is going to self destruct!"

"What?" They cried in unison. Roark looked up at Lance, eyes wide and questioning. Lance shook his head.

"Don't tell me that you can't move! It's not like we're leaving you! Come on!" He glowered, almost angry, before yanking Ash up from his arm. Ash withheld a scream in his throat, but managed to swing his arm onto Lance's shoulder.

"Pika!" His pikachu, which he hadn't noticed upon Lance's shoulder, piped in encouragement. Roark laced his other arm onto his shoulders, and they were off down the halls at the fastest pace they could go.

Then, behind them, something went up in flames as a deep part of the underground facility exploded.

"It's starting!" Ash saw, turning his neck to see the flames chasing behind them.

Then, they were running. Even a final bout of adrenaline coursed through Ash's veins, allowing him to almost run on his own, only holding onto Roark's shoulders. Pikachu raced the ground in front of them, leading the way.

Now running alone, limping but managing, Ash and the others soon managed a peek at where Dawn, Brock and Harlow were waiting for them, outside the initial door they had gone through. Another part behind them exploded, but this time, Ash felt the heat burn the nape of his neck.

"Lance! Roark! Hurry!" Brock stood in between the door, forcing it open. Dawn stood with him as well, pushing it open with all her might. "The door is closing on its own! We won't be able to hold it any longer!" The door threatened to close, pushing Brock and Dawn inside the burning place with it.

"Go! Go!" Lance ordered, running even further. He reached the door, and crashed against it, managing to push it open a foot's distance. Together, the three struggled as one would struggle with the closing doors of an elevator.

Ritchie followed next behind him, slipping out the door with Sparky in his arms.

Roark reached the door, and- "BOOM!"

Something else went off behind Ash, throwing him off his step and onto the ground. With an "ompff!" Ash hit the dirt once more, thought this time it felt as if the last of adrenaline was squeezed from his body and left him cold.

"No! Ash!" They called in unison, all of them holding back the closing door, which was proving extremely difficult.

"Get up!" Roark screamed. "Get up!"

But Ash could only hear his only heart beat, and felt a dreadful sense of defeat that overwhelmed him, almost crushing him and holding him down to the ground.

_I'm going to die!_ He thought, but couldn't bring himself to do anything.

"Pikachu!" The faithful mouse was at his side, rubbing its furry cheek against his. "Pika! Pikapi!" It whined, tiny tears slipping down its face. "Pika!"

"Go…" he managed to order, but the loyal Pikachu remained by his side.

"Pika!"

_I'm not leaving without you._

And then, Ash knew that if he stayed, Pikachu stayed. And if he stayed there on the dirt, he would die, and Pikachu would die.

"Please, Ash!" Dawn cried, back against the door, and feet dragging against the dirt as the door pushed itself closed.

With whatever strength left he had inside of him, Ash was on his feet, and stumbled his last stride to the door. They pulled him in, before all of them slipped pasted the door and into the assignment hall. Behind them, the last explosion hit, and fire passed through the metal door right before it shut, fire escaping into the air before fading.

There was a collective gasp for air, and it was followed by Ash collapsing onto the floor.

"Ash!" He heard, but didn't recognize the voice.

What followed him next was the deepest slumber he had ever had in his life.

* * *

I hated writing this chapter! I mean, I always imagined it in my head, but I feel like it came out rather lamely.

Anyways, these few first chapters were sort of an introduction. What comes next of this story of mine is divided in three parts. If you're interested, you'll see in the next chapter!

Also, please leave a review if you're interested, or simply liked the story. I have a few story alerts of people who have never reviewed, so if you'd like, just type one word! Or not! Haha, it doesn't matter, I'll be writing anyways, but reviews are always nice (Thanks to NightLightNeon and Gerbilftw who have reviewed every single painful chapter! XD XD)

Now, in my opinion, the interesting part will now begin… *laughs hysterically and leaves people in the dark*


	6. Unhinged

**AN:** The reason why I've taken so long to write this story out is because these first chapters were something I just had to get through. Now, I finally have gotten through the introduction stage. After this chapter, the 'real' stuff starts.

* * *

Chapter Four: Unhinged

* * *

"So basically, what you are telling me is… that you fucked up." The man in elegant gray suit sneered. He sat behind with smooth glass table, on a brown leather chair that rotated on its wheels. His honey brown hair was quite stylish, as it was swept back with a lack of gel or anything noticeable product. He kept it out of the way of his sharp eyes, which glared at the two workers in front of him like drill making its way through a wall.

Mr. Steel was a serious man, especially when it came to serious issues. Money, for example, was a serious issue. Learning that he had just lost an underground facility to a couple of intruders, a facility which a cost him a several millions, was a serious issue.

He had to make the lunatic of a scientist, and his surviving assistant, understand just how serious of an issue it was.

"The Hybrid Weaponry was our most promising underground department we had! In fact, several of our investor's are going to be up my ass about this!" Landon Steel, CEO of the Steel Corporation itself, curled his fists tight in an attempt to keep his temper. "At least if you'd saved something! An actual creation!"

"Well, I did!" Dr. Hydra chirped in, a goofy smile plastered on his aging face, despite the situation. Harold eyed him from the spot where he stood next to him, unsure what he was talking about.

"If you talk of the piles of deformities now underneath the City Stadium, you might as well keep your mouth shut." Steel growled. "When I was the _only_ one who would fund your lunatic projects, this is how you repay me?"

"No! No, no, no, no, no! Not at all!" The scientist shook his head several times in the span of two seconds. "I speak of a boy! An actual boy that didn't deform or react negatively to the surgery."

There was a moment of silence in the office.

Harold glanced at the scientist, unsure, before looking forwards at his boss. "Sir, I believe we lost that test subject."

"Wait!" Steel's eyes widened considerable length as he leaned forwards, hands on his desk. "Are you telling me that you possibly reached the goal of creating a concoction that works on humans without killing them, and that the test subject is _lost_?"

"We didn't manage to take anything with us during the evacuation." Harold added, looking down at his feet. "We even lost a few vials of the concoction since we were in such a hurry for getting out."

"Yes, indeed, that is what is bound to happen when you push an old man like me around!" The old man followed his words with a giggle. "Some things just slip!"

The other two men in the office wondered if he was talking about his sanity or the lost concoction.

"But what of the boy?" Steel inquired once again, voice thick with irritation. "Are you telling me he is definitely lost?"

The scientist steadied his wandering gaze to meet his boss's eyes. "If it can be lost, then it can be found." He dug his wrinkling hands into his pockets and pulled out a card. It gleamed from the light that came through the window, before he placed on the glass desk.

"This is his trainer's id. I took it from him when we had him down in the lab." A proud smile stretched across his face. "If he's not dead, then we can probably find him through this. Through his blood, I can recreate the concoction if he is still alive."

Steel took the card off the desk, careful as to not stain the glass with his finger prints. With scanning eyes, he read off the card. "…of Pallet town. Hmm, a Kanto id. That's pretty far from here."

"That's good, sir. I mean, his parents or close friends are used to not hearing from him." Harold added to the conversation. "He might be in a hospital or in a pokemon center, unregistered, but with the picture we might get lucky and find where he is."

"Yes, of course." Steel nodded, and put the card back on the glass of the desk, but kept his eyes on the picture of the id. A tiny version of a black haired, brown eyed boy stared up from the card, a smile on his face.

"Will he look any different though? Because of the procedure you've down to him?"

A twisted expression crossed Dr. Hydra's countenance. "A few nips here and there, maybe. Nothing too drastic."

Even Harold got a small shiver down his spine, but Steel knew better and grabbed the phone to his left. Dialing a sequence of numbers, he put the speaker to his ear.

"Yes, Julius? This is Landon Steel. I need you to work on something. Put eyes in hospitals, pokemon centers, just general places that trainers might go. I need you to find somebody." He glanced down at the card.

"His name is Ash Ketchum."

* * *

Ash woke up to the pounding of his heart, attempting to burst out of its cage.

His eyes didn't open, but in the darkness, he felt as he was ripped away from the state of dream to the state of reality. A bed felt soft underneath him, but he felt damp and sticky from sweat and sheets pressed together. Hair tickled his forehead, and a sort of minty dizzy smell filled his nostrils.

A week hand moved to his face and began to meekly rubbing away at his eyes, sealed by goop.

He would have groaned, if only his throat wasn't as dry as the desert. No sound escaped his lips, but feeble cough followed. He rolled to his side, and finally opened his eyes.

This was followed by a stabbing sensation that felt similar to having his eyeballs gauged from inside his skull. His hands were quick to find his and covered them from the light. This time, he let out shameless whimper.

He was overwhelmed.

Ash waited for several minutes, curled up in a fetal position, a general uneasiness all over him. His body felt like pounded meat and every muscle seemed stiff from the lack of movement.

_How long have I been sleeping?_

Beyond the dim room where Ash lied, a blond girl walked across the grass and reached a small, but cozy table situated outside the room. In her hand, she carried a glossed wooden guitar, which dangled down to the distance of her ankles.

Taking a chair, she sat, and began picking at the strings.

Her unkempt, sandy hair fell in waves across the guitar's front surface. Ignoring the strands of hair, her fingers played until the strings were attuned, and proceeded to play a series of notes. A light and calm tune floated into the air.

"La-La..." She sang, her voice not above a whisper. In the sky, the clouds were being painted in colors of the sunset.

"W-who are you?" A dry voice croaked from behind her.

Her strumming fingers came to an abrupt stop, and pressed down at the strings, muting the melody. She craned her neck around, only to be faced by a rather confused looking Ash.

His hair was tangled and pressed up in odd directions, and his eyes were squinted together in an attempt to see. His hand shielded eyes from the light, but she could see the confusion in his face. He wore a set of light blue pajamas, which were ridiculously wrinkled. He looked exhausted.

"Don't you remember me?" She asked, remaining in her chair.

"I…" His voice was just a note higher than a whisper, but like glass had shattered down his throat. Opting not to talk, he simply took the chair besides her, pulling it out in a slow motion from the table.

"Let me help." The blonde girl left her guitar to a side and reached forwards, pulling out the chair to face her. He nodded, but kept his eyes down as he sat.

A moment of silence ensued. The girl twiddled with her hair, awkward, before speaking.

"Well, In case you don't remember, I'm Ritchie's cousin, Harlow. I was your partner in the tournament." She looked at him, searching for a sign of recognition, but he didn't seem to react.

Instead he inquired, "Where a-am I?"

Underneath his bare feet, he recognized the feeling of cool grass and dirt. He air felt less suffocating here than in Jubilife, where he last remembered being. Somewhere in the distant, the sound of swooshing water was heard lightly.

"You're at my country house. We're about one hour from Jubilife, if you must know." She explained, unsure of what to do. The thought of calling the others crossed her mind. "Lance said it would be better to take you here instead of a hospital of pokecenter."

"I needed a hospital?" Ash ran a hand through his tangled hair, but didn't make it far through the knots. In his head, he made a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I'd say… A week?" She pondered, counting back on her fingers. Ash looked up at her, now eyes widened a slight more.

"A week?" he repeated, weak and surprised. Around the Iris of his eyes, bloodshot veins flooded the whites of his eyes. Broken blood vessels created a ring of red around his eyes, and Harlow looked away, ashamed.

"Yes, a week." She brought the guitar up to her lap, fingers drumming against the surface. "How to do feel?"

"I feel like a rock. My arms and leg hurt from not moving in so long. I'm tired of sleep." He tried to recount. "Seriously? A week?"

"Well, you awoke a few times, but you were in fever. Delirious, I think. I wouldn't know, I wasn't taking care of you." She tugged at a string of the guitar on her lap, and looked behind her to see if anybody had heard them. No one. "Roark and Brock were in charge of you."

Another moment of silence followed.

"I'm sorry, but do you mind?" She held out the guitar, an inquisitive face on.

"I don't mind." Ash whispered, still attempting to analyze the information.

She played a few chords of melancholic tune to drown the silence. "Should I get the others? There all very worried about you…" Her voice seemed to fade and meld into the sound of the guitar. He nodded, as if falling asleep. She continued for another moment, before standing from the chair and leaving the guitar behind.

Ash was left alone, on the table, before the scampering of small feet reached his ears. Lifting up his eyes, he spotted the mass of yellow rushing towards him, before jumping onto his lap.

"Pikachu!" He croaked, and the sense of worry hanging over him dissipated. He embraced the rodent as tight as the weakness allowed him too. "Thank god you're ok."

* * *

Night had descended over the sky, but Ash felt not the need to sleep.

So they had all gathered together, round the fire place of the country house, wrapped in crochet blankets and trying to figure out an explanation.

"Brock and I wanted to take you to the hospital at once, but Lance thought they might come looking for you." Dawn tried to explain. They had spent a good part of the evening allowing Roark to examine Ash once again.

"Lance brought an nurse Joy over, and she said that you weren't wounded or seriously injured, and we should have just let you rest."

"But, I don't understand. I remember… I remember that they…" Ash found it hard to mutter the words, his voice still dry after several bottle of water.

"We thought that you would be like Sparky." Ritchie cut in before Ash went speechless. Said pikachu was just at the door, neither entering the room nor leaving it. The pikachu stood on its hind legs, facing outwards and away from the trainers. Upon its yellow fur, several jagered lines could be spotted. Furless scars.

"I took him to the pokemon center, and besides giving him a few stitches, they couldn't find anything odd in its system."

Ash hugged his own pikachu closer, which was snuggled with him underneath their blanket. They hadn't been separated from each other since the instant they were reunited in the garden.

"But he's been acting weird, and sort of depressed." Ritchie noted, throwing a worried gaze at the mouse. "I haven't used him in battle yet either."

"How do you feel?" Brock asked Ash, sitting on the other side of the couch. It seemed like the fifth-hundredth time somebody had asked them that question. "I mean, Sparky can't exactly tell us what is wrong with him, but maybe you could."

Every face in the living room turned to hear Ash's response.

"I-I-" He stuttered, red-crowned eyes looking at every inquisitive face. "I feel like- I don't want to sleep. I'm-" He looked away, lowering his gaze down and staring at the fire.

"I'm scared." He continued. "I feel like none of this is real. As if I'm waking up from a bad dream. I don't- I don't know. And worst is that I expected to wake up to find my kidneys or livers missing, but the only thing wrong with me are broken blood vessels in my eyes, but that have no explanation."

"Ash… Do you remember what they did to you?" Roark spoke in a careful tone.

"N-No." Ash shook his head in a furious manner, lying. An image of his blood leaking into the transparent container crossed his mind, but he blinked it away. "I don't remember."

The inquisitive eyes left Ash, turning elsewhere.

"Where's Lance?" Ash asked.

"He's investigating. He was looking up some problems with team Galactic, but since this whole _incident_ happened-" Roark paused for a short moment. "It's thrown off our investigation. We don't know if what happened to you guys had to do with the trafficking rings that Galactic is dealing with, or if it is completely unrelated."

"The people of the stadium say that they know of nothing, and the labs where it all took place are gone." Ritchie's cousin entered the room, a tray of several mugs in her arms. "I brought chocolate."

"Thank you," Roark took one, continuing. "All we want to do is get the bottom of this, and find out their master plan."

"Whose?" The blonde girl asked, placing the now empty tray on a small table, and sat on the floor besides Dawn.

"Team Galactic's…" Roark tried to explain. "Some strange things have been happening, and Lance and the Pokemon League believe that Team Galactic is at the bottom of it."

"Strange things?" Dawn looked quite frightened in asking.

"Well, like happened to you guys-" He threw Ash a quick look. "-or like in Oreburgh, they attacked the mines to get a precious object, and then the Eterna's museum was robbed…"

"I don't know if it has anything to do with this, but ferries haven't been coming to port for a week now." Brock added. "And ever since they wanted to pass the new reform, there are all these protests…"

"I just don't understand how all this comes together." Ash shook his head, confused. "What would Galactic have to do blocking ferries and experimenting on us? It just doesn't make any sense." Pikachu made a sound of agreement in his arms.

"That's what we're trying to figure out."

"I just want to get out of here. Tomorrow we should take off." Ash decided.

"But how?" Brock ensued. "There are no ferries! We've been thinking about that all week!"

"Well," Ash looked down at his hands. "At least we should get out of Jubilife."

"Y-you want to leave?" The blonde girl stuttered, almost spilling her cup. On her arms, a small bandage Ash hadn't noticed before. "But your pokemon! We left them at the Center, in your box…"

"We can get them tomorrow." Roark stood from his spot. "I agree with Ash, we should leave Jubilife get father away from Jubilife as soon as we can. Do you feel up to it, Ash?"

Ash nodded, once again feeling the gaze of everybody's eyes.

"Well then, I'll be off to sleep." Roark turned to leave the room. "We should head out early tomorrow."

Brock and Ritchie followed suit soon after, and Dawn and Ritchie's cousin left as well once Ash reassured he'd be okay on his own.

The light in the room was dim as candle light. The fire in the chimney added to the orange light that tinted the room. Ash and Pikachu sat in the same place, Pikachu looking up in worry at its trainer. Ash just stared firmly as the fire, silent.

Behind them, Sparky had remained at the door. The mouse turned to watch the Trainer with its pikachu, and the three of them remained that way for the rest of the night, till the fire burned out.

* * *

They had set their meeting at the coffee shop near the Pokemon Center.

Lance waited, patient, dressed in black and casual attire. In-between his hands rested a cup of black coffee, waves of steam cruising into the air from its surface.

Night life in Jubilife was at its prime, Lance spotting several youths in elegant clothing heading out for glamorous restaurants or fancy clubs. Many of the locals on street were still open despite the hour.

"Sorry for making you wait."

Lance looked away from the window. A man dressed in a khaki trench coat had taken the remaining seat of his table, examining Lance with big grey eyes. He had a stern look upon his face.

"Looker?" Lance guessed.

"Indeed, that is I." The man said, a thick accent in his voice. "Forgive me, but there is not much time. I will give you information that we International Police Agents had retrieved."

"Of course, But can I ask you… Why did you want to meet here, in such a public place?" Lance craned his neck to observe the other people in the coffee shop. The waitress stood next to the barista, chatting and only two other tables were occupied by trainers.

"I have reason to meet here." Looker turned his head and stared at a restaurant across the street. Lance followed his stare. "Other there, in that restaurant. Do you see the man in white coat?"

Lance nodded.

"That is Landon Steel, CEO of Steel Corporation. See the man he is with at the table? That is Cyrus."

"Cyrus? You mean the business executive that had been rumored to have ties with Galactic?" Lance questioned, as he strained his eyes to watch the executives speak.

"Yes, that is him." Looker turned away. "I fear that technology changes or evolves hand in hand with military needs."

"What do you mean?"

"Steel is big technological corporation. We do not have proven evidence, yet there is rumor of Steel working with dealing illegal arms and weapons. Cutting-edge technologies."

"What kind of technology?" Lance kept his eyes of the two across the road.

"For sure, I do not know, but there has been implied of use in nanotechnology, manipulation of human or pokemon genetic code, even genetic engineering for the creation of biological weapons. From information that you have given use, we know galactic is buying arms. We believe Steel is selling."

"Genetic manipulation?" Lance looked up to the man. "Just the other day, we discovered some kind of Lab. Do you believe Steel might be testing weapons for Galactic?"

"It might be, but then again none of this is proven. I and my agents can keep an eye on Cyrus and Steel, but it is not beneficiary if both pokemon league and International Police follow same lead."

"I could follow another lead I have, if you and your agents keep me up to date about this Galactic – Steel business." Lance suggested.

"That would be better, since we must hurry. Galactic already has a plan, while we are scampering like mice to put one together." Looker stood from the table and headed for the door. "I'll be hearing from you, Champion Lance."

* * *

"Can I-" She swallowed a knot in her throat. "Can I come with you?"

The following morning, the gym leader proceeded to drive the trainers down to the city with the old car in Harlow's garage. They had remained in silence as the proceeded down the road, just entering the city.

"What?" Ritchie turned from the passenger seat to look at his cousin.

"Can I come with you?" His cousin repeated with a firmer voice. "I mean, I can pack up some thing from my apartment in the city, leave a note to my dad-"

"I thought you liked living alone." Ritchie turned forwards again.

Harlow remained silent. Dawn put a hand upon her shoulder, sitting in the back seats with her.

"You can come with us, right guys?" Dawn looked at Ash and Brock.

Brock nodded. "You're welcome any time. We owe you it anyways, for letting us stay at your place." Ash just grunted in agreement.

"Thanks." She smiled, and once again the road in silence.

"Lance said he'd meet us at the pokemon center. I can drop Ash off there and then take you to your apartment so that you can pack your things, Harlow." Roark suggested once they stopped in the traffic. Harlow nodded and gave him the address to her apartment.

Dawn peeked out of her window, noticing the unmoving traffic.

"What's up with the road? We're not moving at all!" She noted, getting everybody else to look forwards as well.

"Looks like a protest is creating a road block." Ritchie explained. Several blocks away, mounds of people were shouting phrases and waving banners.

Among the crowd, marching about was a man and woman followed by a Meowth that stood on both legs.

"I can't believe we're getting paid to protest!" James shouted at his companions, giggling. In his arms he held a poll with a poster upon it. It had scribbled: 'FUCK THE REFORM! DON'T FOLLOW THE NORM!'

"Yes! I know! All we had to do was get some delinquent teenagers to believe the government and the pokemon League are a sham!" Jessie cried, feeling victorious. She waved a flag as well, one which said: 'THE GOVERNMENT CAN'T ACT UPON! NO ONE CAN TAKE OUR POKEMON!'

"Meowth, that's wight!" The cat sat on James shoulder, wearing a red t-shirt. It said in black letters: 'Fight! For your right to BATTLE!'

"That old homeless man sure gave us a deal. That Mars chick paid us a good deed." James said. "By our next protest we'll have enough money to formulate a plan to catch that damn pikachu!"

They didn't notice as Ash, Brock and Ritchie descended the car to head for the pokemon center.

"We'll meet you there!" Roark shouted, through the voices of the protestors. Dawn and Harlow moved to the front seats of the car, saying their goodbyes.

"Be careful you guys!" Dawn pleaded, worried. "Those protests can get pretty dangerous.

Ash attempted to give her a reassuring smile, but failed miserably. "We'll try."

With that, the three walked towards the protest as Roark maneuvered the car away and drove down a different lane. They struggled getting across the crowded street, but managed getting through.

"Lance should be here any minute now." Brock noted, glancing at his watch. He looked up and searched for Ash, who had wandered away from him. The raven-haired teen stood rather zombie-like in front of the transfer machine, staring blankly.

"I'll be with Ash." Brock told Ritchie, who nodded and headed for the front desk.

The atmosphere at the center was chaotic. Trainers were chanting sayings from the protest, despite the Nurse's urge for them to leave. Others intently watched the television that hanged high upon the ceiling, the news showing a clip of the city from above, swarmed with protestors. Others lagged behind in couches, injured from being trampled outside.

"Ash!" Brock reached Ash, but he didn't turn when he called. "Ash, what are you doing?" He asked again, now placing a soft hand at his shoulders.

"I…" Brock had to strain his ears to hear him. Ash didn't lift his eyes from the transfer machine's screen. "I can't find my trainer's Id. I need it to call out my pokemon from the box." Pikachu stood at his shoulder, toying with strands of his hair.

"Ash, it's no big deal, you can…" Brock reassured, but his words faded when Ash's blank stare remained unchanging. "Ash?"

He waved his hand in front of the trainer's face, who flinched and turned to look at him with skeptical eyes.

"Ash, you don't look ok." The older of the two implied. Mentally, he smacked himself for stating the obvious.

_Of course he's not ok._

"I…" Ash's eyes lost focus once again, gaze wandering out the windows and out to the protestors. "I just… I just feel-" He tripped on his words, unsure of what to say.

"Listen." Brock guided Ash away from the machine, and sat him down on an empty couch. "I don't fully understand what happened to you." Ash lifted his red rimmed eyes to meet Brock's, attempting to speak, but no words left his throat. Brock kept on speaking.

"I'm sure you don't fully understand it either, but Ash, I _promise_ you once we're out of here we'll get through it and figure out what happened. Okay? I'll be there for you; _all_ _of us_ will be there for you! Me, Dawn, even Lance and Roark are helping us out! So let's get the _hell_ out of this fucking city, and stay strong. Okay?"

Pikachu made a sound of encouragement. Ash stuttered something incomprehensible, nodding furiously. Lifting himself from the couch, he headed for the front desk, leaving Brock behind.

Brock sighed, a slight disappointment tugging at him. He stood and followed as well.

"I bet you can get your trainer's id number by entering your name into the pokecenter's database." Brock suggested, abruptly changing the conversation. He looked at Ash hopefully, who threw him a nervous glance before looking away.

"Yeah, Yeah. I was planning on doing that."

Nurse Joy succeeded in quieting the chanting chorus of rebellious trainers. Wiping her forehead, she made her way to the front desk.

"Boys. How can I help you?" There was a slight hostility in her voice, backed by her expression of frustration.

"Ah, I-I was wondering i-if you could t-tell me my id number. I l-lost my id." Ash avoided eye contact, tapping his fingers in a mad manner on the desk's surface.

The nurse raised her eyebrows high. "Yes, of course. If you've been here before, I'll just enter you name into the database, and it should pop out."

"Great! See, we'll get your pokemon in no time!" Brock gave Ash a firm pat on the back, though it provided no reassurance.

"You're name please?" She asked.

"Ash. Ash Ketchum."

* * *

They arrived to the apartment rather quick. In fact, it was less than two blocks away, but because of the protesters in the main street, a couple of shortcuts were ensued. Roark promised to wait for them in the car.

"Whoa! Your apartment is beautiful!" Dawn stared with wide eyes.

They stood in the living room of the building's sixteenth floor, a large glass window stretching like an outer wall. Beyond it, a wide terrace spread forwards, above the city streets. It was crowded with several flower pots and miniature trees, all meticulously taken care of and polished.

Dawn was nearly pressed against the glass, gazing down at the view.

"Well, thanks!" The blond girl answered, modest, and continued walking across the living room. "My room is over here."

They passed the modern furniture of warm brown and rich textures.

"You have great taste! Especially since you live alone!" Dawn complimented, excited at every detail. Flat screens hung from the wall, the modern chairs looked particularly comfy, and Dawn just longed to sink her bare feet onto the fuzzy looking carpets of soft fabrics.

"All the furniture is thanks to my dad," She explained, opening the door to her room. "He hired somebody to decorate the place. The maids also clean the place every now and then. Without them, I'd probably make the place a mess. I guess my dad makes them work here to feel less irresponsible."

Dawn was never the less impressed by the room.

"Wow! You have so many… _guitars!"_

The blonde girl blushed. "Heh, their kind of my weakness. If they don't buzz, lie, or have the right action, I'll take the home with me!"

Dawn chuckled, unsure of what she was taking about.

"I'd better get packing." She disappeared into the closet.

Dawn stepped closer to the collection of guitars. Across the wall, on several hangers, where guitars and more guitars, covering the wall from one extremity to another. Plain and simple ones, wooden ones, electric ones, ones with four strings, ones with funny shapes, and more.

Harlow returned, a pile of clothes and a large bag in hand. Dumping them on the bed, she proceeded to pack.

"Ah! I feel giddy!" She exclaimed as she began folding. "I never thought I'd be travelling like a trainer."

"Yeah, I felt the same." Dawn looked away from the guitars and went to observe the window. There was also a terrace stretching out beyond the room.

"Be careful not to pack too much, and to pack just what you need!" She suggested. "It's not that great when you have to carry a heavy bag for miles on the road."

"Hmm." The blonde nodded, in thought. She threw a pair of shirts down to the floor. "Won't be needing those."

Dawn helped her pack, advising what was wise to take and what not. The girl packed several changes of shirts, but only a pair of sweaters. A dress was added to the bag, along with a pair of shoes, encase a special occasion would come. Dawn trimmed a variety of items from the vanity sections.

"Take care of you head band, it'll be the only one you'll be taking." Dawn said.

They had practically finished, when Harlow insisted on taking a guitar. Dawn suggested against it.

"Let me go fetch it! You'll see, it takes up no space!" Harlow dashed out of the room.

Surprised by the facts that there were even more guitars somewhere beyond the room, Dawn stalked towards the window, stealing another glace of the view. It was quite beautiful, looking across the city skyline, the central park, and even the main street. The pokemon center was even visible.

A spike of regret touched Dawn as she thought of Ash. Her thoughts began to wander, but then something caught her eye.

In the end of the main street, a hoard of large black vehicles could be viewed, even from the distance.

Harlow returned to the room. "Hey, here it is, it's tiny! Look-"

"What's going on down there?" Dawn asked, almost in a whisper. Harlow settled the guitar next her bag, and walked to Dawn's side. Upon seeing the vehicles, her eyes widened fearfully.

"Oh no."

Dawn turned at Harlow, faced etched with worry. "Oh no? Oh no, what?"

Harlow shook her head, and pulling Dawn as she walked away from the window.

"Call Ash! Or Brock! Tell them to leave the Pokemon Center, now!" She urged, sweeping the bag from the floor and heading out.

"Why?" Dawn inquired, searching for her Pokétch in her bag.

"Those are the military tanks. They're going to stop the protest."

**

* * *

**

AN:

Such a lazy write. It wasn't originally going to end here, but it was getting to long and I just wanted to get it over with. Anyways, thanks for the reviews! You guys are awesome and amazing!

I feel lousy, because it was getting too long and I didn't even include any action of anything that might actually be interested.

Anyways, I hoped you liked it! And thanks for the people that added this to their alerts. Great to know somebody actually wants to know what happens next! XD

As mentioned in the author's note above, the real 'action' or 'war' stuff begins at the next chapter. I probably wont take long to write it either.

And if your liked reading this, or would like to help…WOULD ANYBODY LIKE TO BE MY BETA? I feel like some small mistakes slip past me, and I would love that I had somebody to help me out with it! Send me a review of PM if interested!

Cheers!


	7. The Riot

In the world of my fanfiction, instead of the common question of 'where's Waldo?' you'd probably hear the question 'where's Lance?' more often.

* * *

Chapter Five: The Riot

* * *

'_Ring! Ring!'_

"Hello?" Ritchie held the Pokétch close to his ear. "Hello?"

He brought the device back down and stared at it, before hanging up.

"Your friend Dawn has been calling me for the last five minutes, but I can't hear a thing." Ritchie approached Ash and Brock. "All I get is a bunch of static."

"I bet the phone lines are jammed thanks to the protest. A lot of cell traffic." Brock shrugged his shoulders. "She always gets worried for us, so it's probably no big deal."

"Why is this taking so long?" Ash slammed his fists onto the front desk, throwing the nurse a glare. The nurse joy lifted her eyes from the computer with an irritated look. "We've been here for twenty minutes already! And where the _fuck _is Lance?" He brought his fists down onto the desk once more.

"Jeez Ash, Calm down." Ritchie raised his brow, annoyed. Brock just looked kind of worried.

"Calm down? But we should have been done with this a long time ago!" Ash turned back to face the nurse again, drumming his fingers on the desk's surface. "Doesn't it usually take about two minutes to get a trainer's id?"

"Look, kid. I don't know why it's taking so long. Maybe it's what your friend said. The service lines are jammed because of all the cell traffic caused by the protest, or maybe some idiot trainer decided to hack his way into the pokecenter's service. I can't do anything about it so stop asking." Nurse Joy jerked her head back to the computer. The computer screen showed a small pop up window which loaded the trainer's id.

Ash cursed under his breath, and stormed away to a nearby couch.

Brock offered the irritated nurse a weak smile. "Please forgive his snotty attitude. Today just hasn't been a good day."

The nurse snorted. "Well, it hasn't been for anybody."

"Heh, I guess so-" Brock froze in the middle of his sentence when the crowd outside was suddenly… louder.

* * *

Outside…

"Let us through!"

"It is our right!"

"You can't do this!"

The police forces had been pouring into the main street, followed by large black tanks. They stood with round shields in hand, and a baton held in their other anticipating hand.

"Looks like time to leave!" James suggested with a nervous chuckle. Jessie gripped her flag agitated.

"Definitely! Before this gets ugly and ruins my hair!" Her laugh ringed in a high pitch, making James and Meowth cringe. She back stepped, before finally abandoning her flag and dashing through the crowd, her two companions following close behind.

The remaining trainers chanted with vigor, unfaltering to the building wall of shielded officers who began to press against them. The muddled together; forcing each other upon the officers, they pushing them back in a grouped effort.

The police offered violent shoves in return.

"YOU ARE ORDERED BY THE CITY LAW TO DISSPERSE THIS CROWD AND CEASE THE PROTEST!" A megaphone rang from one of the tanks. The previous mildly peaceful crowd became disconcerted. Closer to the tanks, officials stood with their long guns in their hands.

"They're threatening us!" A trainer at the front lines yelled back to his companions, insulted. They cried in disdain and pushed against the wall of shields. The boy turned to face the officer whose shield he was pressed against.

"You dirty scumbag! It's because of you we get our rights violated!" The boy lunged at the shield and tugged at it with forceful pulls from one of the official. "It's because of you and those shit laws that were losing our pokemon! You and everything you stand for-"

He never finished his sentence as the officer pulled the shield away from his grasp; He bashed the base of it upon the boy's skull. The boy fell to his knees, stunned.

Around him, his fellow trainers began yelling; their faces were wide-eyed and surprised. But the officer didn't stop. He brought the shield up and down again and again, blood beginning to splatter onto the asphalt.

"Stop it! Stop it!" A girl besides him shrieked. Another police officer pushed her away with abundant force, sending her tumbling back into her fellow trainers. The trainers around them cried in contempt, angered.

"Their killing us!"

"Bastards!"

"This isn't legal!"

The screams of the trainers witnessing the beating screamed and lashed their anger at the standing police officers. Their contagious agitation spread through the crowd. The Protestors, which merely minutes ago marched in a rather peaceful manner, were frenzied and furious.

A trainer at the front line brought his megaphone up to his mouth. His message broadcasted through the crowd.

"THIS IS WHAT WE'RE FIGHTING AGAINST! DON'T LET OUR DREAM DIE!"

And with that, all chaos broke out.

The police started pushing them back; the trainers, with no other defense, released their most powerful pokemon into the street of Jubilife.

* * *

"Guys! Guys!" Ash returned from his sulking spot at the couch, wide eyes watching the front window. "Something is going on out there, those trainers-"

Inside the pokecenter grew silent. Besides the buzzing of the television, everyone stood quiet, staring out the window.

A bewildered trainer burst through the front door.

"Outside!" The trainer barely managed speaking in between violent coughs. Two other trainers rushed to his side, helping the boy further into the center. Everyone watched him, expecting an explanation of the disorder outside.

"The military! They threw some gas!" He coughed and heaved for air. "I can't breathe!"

The whole center broke out into noise.

"The military?"

"Dear God, we're stuck in a riot!"

"We have to get out of here!"

"Mew, it's turned into a riot out there!"

Commotion filled the Pokemon center, people shouting and scrambling for their things or friends. Outside, the screams and shouts increased; loud bangs were also audible.

"What is that?" Ash shouted through the noise, a terrible feeling pulling at his gut. Hearing the bangs once more, he turned to Brock and Ritchie. "Gunshots? Are those _freaking_ gunshot?"

"I don't know! I don't know!" His voice edgy, Brock pulled Ash and Ritchie closer. "We have to get out of here!" He reasoned.

"How?" Ritchie cried.

"No!" The nurse caught their attention. They turned to look at her. "We have to close the doors, so that the place doesn't get any more crowded than it already is, and so that the gas won't come in here! Then we should close the blinds, so the military won't attack and lay low, incase bullets-"

She was interrupted by a bullet crashing into the front window of the center. It made a terrible cracking noise, causing Ash's heart to skip a beat.

The center's front window spilt along the middle into a series of long fissures, a bullet lodged in its dead center. The broken glass remained upright, though splintered and similar to a tangled spider web.

"Arceus!" Somebody shouted.

"Close the doors! Close the door! Shut the blinds! Shut the-" The nurse screamed at the trainers, but through the chaos and screams they barely heard her.

Another bullet impacted the glass window, only to shatter the glass for good. Millions of sharp pieces flew across the center and onto the floor. The noise from the street was now completely audible, the glass window no longer keeping the upheaval outside.

"Get down! Get down!" Brock pulled the two trainers besides him down to the floor. A mere moment later, a swift bullet skimmed right where Ash's head had just been. Ash felt his hair move to the breeze created by the projectile, before it sunk into the unexpecting nurse.

She collapsed to the floor behind the desk.

"Fuck!" Ash stared, eyes wide, at the spot where the nurse had been just standing. "We- We got to help her!"

He sprinted up and jumped over the desk, disappearing behind it.

"Ash! Ash!" Brock called, grasping firmly at Ritchie's arm in worry. "Please, let not get separated!" He tugged at Ritchie and followed Ash's movement, leaping behind the desk.

The pokemon center was now in absolute turmoil. People from outside flooding in, searching for cover, while the ones previously inside screaming or hid behind objects to avoid stray bullets.

"What is this?" Behind the desk, Ash was crouched besides Nurse Joy. His hand reached at her neck to pulled out the projectile.

"No, Ash!" Brock tried to stop him, waving his hands. "You could injured here more if you touch-"

He cut off as he saw what was in Ash's hand. Between his fingers, he held what looked like a dart. Pikachu jumped off his shoulder and sniff at it; He scrunched his small nose, disgusted by the smell. Ash could smell it as well.

"Do you smell that? Inside the dart?" Brock and Ritchie shook their heads.

"So she's just been sedated, or… poisoned?" Ritchie snatched the dart from his hand, examining for himself.

"More like sedated." A deep voice interjected from above them. The three of them jumped, turning to see the source of the voice. Above them, a menacing riffle-like gun was pointed at the three of them. The red-headed man with cropped hair stood above them, adjourning what looked like a sleeveless bulletproof vest with a vertical silver strip.

"Sadly, we need you alive." He clocked the gun.

Ash sprung to his feet and backed into the wall behind him, just barely dodging the bullet fired.

"What- What!" Ash's eyes were as wide as flashbulbs, staring at the familiar man. In front of him, stood the same red-headed man that held him prison in that underground cell, the same man that had used him as a human shield to escape from Lance and the others.

"You!"

"Yes, me!" A hearty laugh escaped from his square jaws, which rang in Ash's ear despite deafening sounds of chaos of the center. "So you survived the operation… Ash Ketchum."

Ash stood paralyzed as the gun remained pointed at his direction, eyes wheeling back and forth from the gun and the man's face.

"I'm afraid you'll be coming with me."

"Ka-chu!" Pikachu growl and bared his teeth, drawing in the Harold's attention to the floor. His cheeks sparked.

"I see the rodent also survived…" He added, confusing Pikachu for Sparky.

In that moment of distraction, Brock sprang for the man. He grasped at the long snout of the gun, and pushed it up at the ceiling. Several shots were discharged into the ceiling, and he fell along with Harold behind the desk and out of their view.

"Brock!" Ash cried, running forwards. He and Ritchie jumped over the desk to find the two rolling on the floor, in a desperate struggle for control of the gun. Ash hurled himself at the man as well, clasping his arms around his neck.

Harold grunted, and managed to land a kick on Brock's gut. He rolled away and clutched his stomach.

Harold attempted to stand, Ash trying his best to keep him down, swung back and forth, sliding in between the glass that was shattered across the floor in. He was unable to point his gun.

Ritchie grasped a chair and brought it above his shoulders, before swinging it down upon Harold's head. It impacted with Harold's skull, before splintering into a dozen different pieces. He face forwards, stunned.

The agent groaned, momentarily unmoving on the floor.

"Let's go! Now!" Brock choked, managing to stand on his knees. With the help of the two trainers, Brock stumbled onto his feet. Jumping out of the center's shattered window, they entered the rioting street.

Men in vests had flooded the main streets, but they wore different uniforms than Harold's. Across their chests, the local's police logo was displayed even as they hid behind large shields that protected them from the rioting protestors. A helmet protected their heads, also shielding their eyes; a mask was over their mouths and noses. Beyond the rows of soldier, black tanks rolled into the streets. Ontop of the tanks, men with similar vest threw cans of gases or aimed their guns of loose pokemon, shooting.

Ash, Ritchie and Brock were kicked, pushed, elbowed merciless by the chaos of the street. Although they stuck together, the street was becoming difficult to cross; Brock's arms swung around Ash's and Ritchie's shoulders.

Pokemon flooded the street as well. Two charzards flew above the tanks, avoiding the bullets fired at them, yet still trying to pour flamethrowers at the police officers. Water pokemon in the front lines broke the wall of the shielded men with powerful blasts of water; other pokemon attacked on their own. They saw vines throwing people about the road, electricity bounding up into the sky, and flying pokemon with their trainers on their back, who threw pieces of debris down below.

Battles broke out in the street, trainer's pokemon wrestling against pokemon that adjourned blue and red sashes.

Even the trainers fought back, armed with sticks, or filling glass bottles with liquid.

From one of the tanks, a soldier launched a can a few feet away from them. It exploded into a white cloud of gas, effulging everybody within a ten meter radius of it.

"No!" Ritchie coughed violently, faltering and dropping Brock. He fell to his knees and gasped desperately.

Ash held Brock with weak arms, blinded by the gas burning at his eyes. "We have to move!" He screamed, before breaking into coughs as well.

Brock could now stand on his own. He covered his mouth and nose with his shirt, and yanked at Ritchie's arms. "Come on!" He grasped Ash's arm as well, and pulled them with him as he ran from the tanks.

They dashed through the crowd, coughing and wiping at their eyes, heaving for fresh air.

A rain of bullets rained overhead, aiming for the military.

"Damn police!" A man with a rifle shouted a cigarette in his mouth. He sported the same sleeveless vest as Harold. He held the gun up and fired some more, causing soldiers to drop to the floor as if rag dolls.

He chuckled and scratched at his bald head. "Yo Harold! Don't tell me you lost the fucker?"

The latter walked out of the pokecenter's window, red with anger.

"No dumbass! That bitch is fast! And his little friends ganged up on me!"

"Hah, can't take out a couple of trainers? I'll tell you how!" His partner lifted his gun at a random direction, and fired. A trainer running from the protest fell to the ground, blood spattering as his brains were blown out.

Harold scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one stuck with the _damn_ dart gun!"

"There's the fucker right there!" The bald man spotted Ash and his companions, stumbling through the crowd. He signaled him with the rifle, aiming. "Do you want me to shoot the motherfucker?"

"You're a fucking idiot! The boss wants him alive!" Harold sprinted after them, shouting back at his partner. "And don't shoot at his friends! You might hit him!"

"_Me_?" He looked almost insulted. He followed Harold, stepping on the dead trainer as he loaded his gun. "Why, I was only hired because I never miss."

* * *

"Whatdowedowhatdowedo?" Dawn bit her nails in a nervous manner. They watched from inside their car, parked a block away from the main street which was blocked by police patrols. Ritchie's cousin watched in worry as well, leaning forwards from her spot in the passenger's seat, squinting eyes attempting to see the riot.

Roark was gripping the driver's wheel rather tight. "I don't know- If only- If only they'd answered the phone!"

"And where's Lance?" Harlow threw herself back into the seat. "Isn't that guy supposed to have dragon pokemon? Can't he fly them out of there?"

"On the radio they said they were shooting at any pokemon that didn't on the they blue and red strip of the police department. That's way they have the tanks." Roark explained, regret in his voice.

"Oh no! Pikachu!" Dawn was near tears.

"Still, I bet they wouldn't shoot at a dragonite. Those dragons will eat you alive!" The blonde snorted, attempting to provide some relief. There was silence, followed by the sound of gunshots whizzing through the air.

No relief was provided.

Somebody knocked at their window. Roark turned, almost jumping, to find Lance outside the vehicles doors.

"Lance!" The three of them cried in relief. Roark lowered his window, Lance looking dead serious.

"Where are Ash and the others?"

"Oh Lance, they're in the riot! He went to the pokecenter to get his pokemon- Please! Get them out of there!" Dawn pleaded, tears now slipping down her cheeks.

With that, Lance was already running down the street.

"Run! Run!"

And indeed they ran. Ritchie, Brock and Ash ran through the panicking crowd, the two men following behind them firing with no mercy.

A sick sense of guilt filled Ash's gut as he felt oddly grateful the street was full of people, not allowing their followers to have a clear range. Clearly, the perpetrators didn't give a damn, and fired away despite the innocent people in the way, the number of casualties rising.

Ash was pushed aside from Brock and Ritchie through the crowd. The two men focused their aim only on him.

"You guys find Roark!" Ash tried his best to be heard by his friends. Brock apparently heard him through the screams of the people, and shook his head. They continued running. Once he got closer to Ash, he shouted his own response.

"No way!"

"But their only after me! They'll kill you!" In fact, a moment later, another bullet struck a trainer close to them, who collapsed on the ground before being trampled by the running crowd.

A ruthless trainer threw a Molotov bomb into the street, the glass bottle shattering into a ball of fire.

They halted, lifting their arms to shield themselves from the fire. It burned less than a few feet away.

Stepping back, Brock grasped Ash's arm, shaking his head and remaining in place.

"No! I'm not leaving you to fight on your own." Brock he threw a brief smile of encouragement at Ash. "You're gunna get out of this."

"Brock! What are you doing? Let's move!" Ritchie screamed, withholding himself from running off by himself. Instead, Brock pulled out a pokeball from his belt and clicked the button.

The gigantic pokemon appeared in a clouded red misty form before truly materializing, giving the terrified protestors a chance to back away from the beast. Releasing an intimidating roar, the slivery Steelix looked down upon the crowd, beady eyes staring with contempt.

"Get close to Steelix!" Brock ordered. The three of them followed orders, scrambling for cover between the snake's steel surfaces.

The two men following them came to a halt before the gargantuan snake, eyeing the menacing pokemon. Every time it squirmed or moved, somebody was violently pushed aside, or even squished under its great mass. Ash tried to ignore this.

Harold and his partner stepped back, avoiding getting squashed by the giant snake. The bald one shot at the snake, but the steelix maneuvered its body to shield its master, bullet hitting him, and only barely clattering against the surface.

The gun clicked loudly, and no more bullets followed.

"Aw, fuck." The bald man hung the rifle over his arm, and scratch the stubble of his jaw. "I'm out of bullets." His voice was filled with childish disappointment.

That particular zone of the main street was beginning to empty. Steelix's smoldering size alerted the people from a distance to not approach it anymore than necessary, and the fear of being squashed beat the fear of breathing painful gases or a chance at getting shot.

"It's not going be that easy!" Harold warned the trainers, running forwards for the Steelix. The snake lowered its maw to bit at the man, but he swiftly avoided it and headed for the three trainers.

"No! It's not!" Brock screamed, as if his words were a war cry, and jumped down the snake's back to meet him. They collided and began their brawl with fist and kicks.

Brock launched a punch forwards, but Harold dodged aside. He grabbed Brock's outstretched arm and pulled him in, delivering a punch to his stomach. Brock doubled over, clutching his stomach.

"Defending your little friend." Brock charged forwards again, but Harold dodged him again with ease. "Don't waste your time!" He swirled and threw a punch straight for Brock's face. Brock staggered back, a pain exploding where the fist had collided with his nose.

"No!" Ritchie charged at the red headed man, screaming. "You messed with my pikachu!"

He pulled at the bullet proof vest, and managed to pull him off Brock. Harold looked back at him as if a nuisance. At this moment of distraction Brock took the opportunity to yell.

"Run, Ash! Run!"

Ash stood, paralyzed, eyes wide, watching the fight, but in the corner of his eye, he saw the bald man loading his gun. Pikachu kept growling nervously into his ear, ready to bounce of his shoulders once it would be necessary.

"Go!"

The Steelix shifted, aiming for the man that was attacking his master. In the distance, pokemon wearing the red and blue strip approached, watching the snake as a menace.

With that, Ash stumbled over the Steelix, and ran.

Harold's partner followed after him.

* * *

The dragonite soared above the riot, at a safe, high distance, when Lance spotted the colossal snake upon the street.

With a swift dive, they headed downwards, closer to the street, until he could see Brock's form fighting among the chaos of people. Streaks of red flowed down his nose.

He and Ritchie fought alongside against a vested man, the Steelix unable to assist them as it fought off flying blue and red stripped pokemon. The beaks of the bird pokemon peaked merciless at the snake, which shook itself and snapped it's maws at its attackers.

Brock would throw himself onto the man, only to stumble back from a hit, Ritchie charging at the man a second after, to be thrown off as well. The dart gun lay several feet away.

"Brock! Ritchie!" Lance called. The two weary trainers lifted their eyes to see the dragonite land upon the street, its great wings blowing away a number of raging fires upon the street.

"Stay back!" He ordered, jumping off the mighty dragon. He glared at the man, finally recognizing him. "You!"

Brock and Ritchie stopped their persistent attack, gasping for breath. Harold wiped his arm across his face, wiping away at sweat. He smirked. "And who do you think you are?"

He was taking several steps back, reaching for the gun.

"Lance!" Ritchie gasped in-between pants. "Watch out!"

Harold grasped the gun from the street, and twisted to point it at the Dragon champion. Quick, Lance dashed at the man. Harold had just lifting the gun into the air, and Lance's hand wrapped around Harold's wrist, and yanked him to his side.

Harold stumbled forwards, and with another swift movement, Lance's free hand twisted the gun out of his hand. With that, Lance pulled him forwards, and Harold swung over his shoulder and landed roughly onto the asphalt, his back to the ground and his gun now in Lance's hand.

Ritchie and Brock watched in wonder.

Lance remained still for a moment, gun pointed at the man's chest, who looked up at him in surprise.

He pulling the trigger.

Harold flinched, and the dart was deep into his chest. His eyes fluttered, and came to a close.

Lance turned and threw the gun at Brock, who caught it. He looked unperturbed.

"How did you do that?" Ritchie wondered, eyes filled with admiration.

"Practice." Lance dusted his hands. He looked up, scanning the street. "What happened to Ash?"

Brock's heart sunk in worry. "He ran, but another one of them followed him. He had a real gun."

* * *

Ash was thrown off his feet, another explosion breaking out on his right.

The palms of his hands dug into the asphalt rocks in a desperate attempt to lift himself to his feet. He didn't look back, unknowing of where his follower was. Pikachu squealed in encouragement, tail twitching fretfully.

Back on his feet, Ash ran with Pikachu at his feet.

Spotting a police officer carrying a long gun stalking the street, he bolted towards the man, calling out for him.

"Hey! Hey!" Ash waved at him, catching his attention.

"Halt!" The office warned in a scream, lifting his gun to point at Ash. Trying to stop himself, Ash skidded before slipping onto the street with his back to the ground. He scrambled into an upright position, lifting his hands into the air.

"Don't shoot! Please help me! There's a man! He's-"

"Silence!" The officer signaled at the rodent with his gun. "Retrieve your pokemon into its pokeball, or I am authorized to shoot."

Ash gasped, and reached forwards to hand Pikachu behind his back. Instead, the rodent jumped around, growling at the officer, blind to the gun pointed at him.

"No! You don't understand! I don't have his pokeball, he won't attack! Please, there's somebody trying to kill me-!" Ash swatted his hand at Pikachu. The mouse stood quivering, static slipping from his cheeks. Ash managed to push him behind his back.

The man ignored him, cocking his gun, aiming for the Pikachu, which was escaping Ash's grasp and trying to step in front of his master, to protect him.

"I'll give you three second to put it in its pokeball! One!"

Ash's nervous eyes flicked back and forth the street, searching for the gruff man following him, and looking back at the gun barrel pointed at his pokemon.

"No! Please! Listen! Pikachu, Stay back!" Pikachu out of his grasp again, electricity now sizzling dangerously off his fur.

"Two!"

"Oh Mew, listen! No! Don't! Please! NO! NO! PIKACHU-"

"THREE!"

Ash jumped in his spot, ducking his head in an instinctive motion into his hands, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed together as the repetitive sound of a gun firing filled his ears. A scream escaped his throat.

It lasted several seconds, until the gun clicked to a stop. Ash remained curled in his spot, unable to open his eyes to face his dead pokemon.

"Pika!" Ash heard in a healthy sounding voice.

Bringing his eyes open, Ash saw his faithful pikachu by his side, unscathed. Instead, in front of both of them, lay the corpse of the police officer; several holes were torn into the body. Blood poured from the fresh corpse and pooled onto the street.

"God, I hate the police." His pursuer charged at him from behind. He put his gun around Ash's neck, and pulled him back.

Ash's throat was sealed closed by the pressure of the gun squeezing his neck, lungs burning for the need of air. Ash choked and clawed at the riffle, eyes bulging in surprise.

"I just had to kill him." Harold's partner laughed.

Ash twirled around, trying to throw him off with no avail. The man pulled the gun tighter to himself, bringing Ash to where his back was pressed into his chest, feet just grazing the ground. At their feet, Pikachu jumped around, nervous, not attacking in fear of hurting his own trainer.

Ash couldn't understand. Understand how it was so easy for the world to be crashing down on him in a matter of days. How the idea of himself being strong was quickly stripped from his mind, and how he was reduced into so little, so defenseless. Tears began to sting at his eyes in burning anger, but despite his thrashing and throwing, the man still choked him, no breath available for his blazing lungs.

The haunting laugh of his attacker filled his ears as he felt his every fiber burn with the lack of oxygen.

"Pika!" The mouse wheeled out of his sight.

_He's left me!_ Ash thought, terrified. He would have broken out sobbing in that moment if it weren't for the gun against his throat.

Then, the man and the trainer staggered forwards, propelled by a violent push from behind the man's back. The gun was released from Ash's neck, who stumbled a few feet forwards, the man falling on his chest just at his feet.

Ash inhaled tearing gasps of air, falling to his weakened knees. His head was spinning, eyelids shut in a terrible effort to breath.

"Kachu!" The faithful rodent returned to Ash's side, its tail still glowing white from the iron tail he'd just launched. Pikachu pressed itself against his trainer's heaving body in reassurance, a flood of his own name coming from its mouth.

Ash forced his eyes open to look down at him. Taking his hands off his sore throat stopped gasping for a moment, nodding forcefully at the rodent.

"Ok. Let's go." Ash staggered to his feet, taking heavy strides in an effort to put distance between him and the unconscious man. He kicked the gun away, which skidded along the street and into a puddle of sewer water.

Ash's head swayed in mad spins. The streets were blurred in his eyes, and if any swift motion would be taken, he was sure he'd collapse to the asphalt, disoriented. The yellow mass of Pikachu lead the way down the street.

"Ash!" Lance called from a distance, running down the street. Ash's eyes lifted from the ground and searched for him, recognizing his deeper voice. Spotting the champion through his hazy vision, he wobbled up to meet him.

"Ash! Be careful!"

Ash stopped in confusion, not exactly understanding his warning.

"Ash-" The trainer felt the sharp jab of something crashing into the back off his head. In the moment the blow crashed into his skull, all thought was wiped from Ash's mind, like a sudden cloth on a chalk board. He collapsed to the ground, hardly feeling the gravel as he floored.

"_Ash…"_ He barely register Lance's scream, faded in the distance. The sound of his own heartbeat flooded his ears instead, deafening him from the chaos of the street or the worried cries of his Pikachu.

Another blow came down on the raven-haired boy, and he crumpled completely down to the ground. Now, the pain was the only thing comprehensible in Ash's mind as another blow crashed into him.. And another blow.

And another.

"No!" Lance bolted into a run as the now conscious man occupied himself with delivering hits with the hilt of his gun to Ash's fallen form. Noticing Lance, he lifted his gun, and with a flip, pointed it at Lance's running form.

Lance spotted the gun, and skidded to a stop. He flinched once the man pulled the trigger.

But no gunshot was fired, as the gun clicked without firing, not functioning. Lance stared at the man for another moment as he pressed the trigger expectantly, no bullets launching forwards. The bald man looked at his gun for a moment, then threw it aside.

"I hate it when guns get wet."

Lance charged forwards again, commencing a brawl of fists with the man, Ash just only at their feet.

A sense a consciousness came back to Ash, spotting Lance and the man fighting, towering above him. A sudden rush of adrenaline filled Ash's being. In a desperate lunge, the boy threw his arm forwards, grasping the vested man's ankle.

He tripped forwards once he tried jumping at Lance, dragging Ash's body slightly forwards. He craned his neck around to glare at Ash with mad eyes, shaking his foot from his grasp. Another surge of adrenaline crossed Ash. He tugged at the struggling foot, dragging the man back.

Then, Ash pulled so hard, he propelled himself and the man's body back, flinging the man over his head before he released his foot, sending the man flying several meters across the air before crashing into the glass window of a shop.

Lance, standing and Ash, on his back, stared as the man disappearing behind the shattering glass, both with unbelieving eyes.

"What? What?" Ash stammered in his own disbelief, arms burning as he sat up on the street.

"No," Lance snapped out of his trance of amazement first, grasping Ash's arm and pulling it over his shoulder. "No, time! We must go!"

They cut into an alley, where the break of an old car screeched in a loud echo. Before Ash and Lance, Roark stopped the old van, the boys in the back swinging the door open for them.

"Get in! Get in!" Brock shouted, waving his hand at their direction. His bloody face was plastered with anxiousness. Lance pushed the dazed Ash onto Dawn before scooting in and closing the door behind them.

"Go!" Roark released his foot onto the accelerator, and they were off.

"Ash! Ash!" Dawn wrapped her arms around Ash's limp form. His head lolled back into the crook of her neck, eyes fluttering.

"What happened to Ash?" Roark questioned, eyes remaining on the road. The shape of buildings and roads blurred past them, Roark keeping a steady, rapid pace. Harlow twisted in the passenger seat to see.

"Lance, what happened?" She asked, spotting Ash's disheveled form. Dawn tried to shake him, successfully keeping him awake.

"He probably has a concussion." Lance stated, sparing Ash a glance. "Dawn, try to keep him awake."

He wiped his hands at his pants, moving his gaze out the window, searching for any further threats. He couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. The image of Ash's inhumane strength kept rewinding in his head. How he flung the man aside like one would fling over a useless object. A broken toy, crumpled paper balls, a pen even. Not a full grown man, especially not one twice Ash's size.

"Ash," Dawn leaned forwards, making Ash's head loll forwards as well. He opened his eyes to an extent. "Look Ash! We're getting out of Jubilife!"

Brock and Ritchie encouraged him from the backseats, voices scratchy from the previously inhaled riot gases. The view around them was emptying itself of buildings, falling behind as they reached one of the exits of the city.

Dawn felt a wet substance in her neck. Spotting a streak of crimson blood, worry clenched her heart. "Ash! You're bleeding!"

Ash slowly brought his hand up to the back of his head, fingering his scalp gingerly. It tip of his fingers were stained red.

"I'm sorry Dawn; I didn't mean to get you dirty." His words were slurred and raspy. They hit a bump on a road, and he accidentally put his blood stained hand on the window, leaving an eerie handprint behind. Beyond it, the outskirts of Jubilife city could be seen.

"You're going to need stitches." Brock noted, glancing at his wound. A cut slashed through Ash's scalp, just behind his right ear. "Once we stop, I can stitch you up."

There was a moment of silence. Lance, who had brought his arm over the seat to turn and glace out the back window, sat back into his seat. "I think we're safe now. There's nobody following us, and no apparent threat."

The group let out a breath of air that they had been unconsciously holding.

"Wait…" Ash sounded like he was having a hard time formulating a sentence. "Once we stop… where?"

Lance and Roark suddenly realized that that was a factor they had not considered. They promised they'd get them out of the city, but to leave them where? And what good would that do? The group wanted desperately to go to Kanto, yet no ferries were available. And the disturbing fact that the men that worked in the laboratory managed to find Ash so fast, just hours from when he left Harlow's house, was extremely worrying.

"I guess we'll have to take them with us, Lance." Roark said, bring the car into a highway. Lance didn't answer for a moment.

"Bring us with you where?" Ritchie asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Lance? What do you say?" Roark asked, unsure whether he had made the right suggestion. "We can leave these kids to fend for themselves! Ash's health can exactly be counted as the best, and they have no means of staying hidden for the workers from the laboratory. We should protect them-"

"No!" Lance interrupted with a voice of finality. The younger ones in the car were filled with disillusion and disappointment. "I have a better idea." All of them listened attentively

"I need to get to the outskirts of Celestic town very quickly. Cynthia told me that there's another internal Pokemon League Base at the base of the Mount Coronet, where I can leave all of you. You'll be safe there, and they'll know what to do with you there."

"That's fine with us!" Brock assured, still worried Lance would leave them behind.

"It's just… I never would want to drag you kids into the whole mess I'm dealing with." Lance said, unsure of his decision.

* * *

**AN:**

**Wow. I took so long in this random chapter. Blame finals.**

For those who are wondering, the conflict that will create the war will be more evident. And the next chapter will also fast-forward a few weeks into the future. Thanks for your patience!

In case your wonder why the lab dude wasn't able to shoot Lance, it's because when Ash kick the gun away, it landed in a puddle of water, and if gun powder is wet it doesn't work. Im saying that incase it wasn't obvious.

Everybody, thanks for the reviews! Even though I have way more page views than reviews, I'm still encouraged to write faster when I read each review!

PLEASE, if you read this, let me know what you think in a review! I f you want, just leave one word! Anything! Reviews are awesome! And I'll really like some constructive critism, since I've gotten very little.

I just haven't been able to update since all these school finals are coming up and I'm just tired from all these projects. But by the next weeks, I'll be over with school, and Updates will definitely come faster!

Thanks again! If you have any questions, please leave a review and I'll probably answer!


	8. Break pt1

**AN: **Oh no! It's been so long since I updated! I'm so sorry to everybody who read this or at least thought it was interesting. Everything got really nasty for a while and then my family decided to send me to rehab… so I couldn't write for a while. At least things are better know that I'm out. But I apologize so much! The story will finally settle into a darker tone... By the way, if i didn't answer to a review or its because of the whole rehab situation... ick.

Here's a small summary of what has happened so far:

Lance and Roark are investigating team galactic, which has suddenly been appearing a lot on the radar in criminal affairs. Lance is currently protecting the Lustrous Orb, which is one of team Galactic targets. Ash and his friends got badly mixed in with a secret operation running underneath a Jubilife stadium. There, a mad scientist which performs experiments on pokemon decided to step up his project by using a human test subject. Before almost getting killed, Ash is pulled out of the messy situation by Lance. He and the rest of his crew are now on the run, suddenly dealing with some very dangerous people…

* * *

Chapter Six:

Break Pt.I

* * *

"Ritchie…" The blonde girl sat beside him. Ritchie turned away from the small fire he sat before, looking at his cousin.

"Harlow… Do you want to heat something up? Lance said we couldn't keep the fire on for much longer." Ritchie pushed a branch through the week fire, overturning the burning foliage.

The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She tapped the end of the box several times.

Ritchie scoffed. "You know those things aren't quite the best thing for you when you're travelling by foot. You'll get tired quicker; you'll run out of breath…"

Leaning forwards into the fire, she lit the cigarette with one long inhale, pulling back sharply.

A large cloud of smoke surrounded her.

"I almost burned my hair there!" She ignored him completely.

The sky wasn't dark yet. The sun was below the line of trees though, dying the cloudless vast with a ghoulish blue tinge with streaks of a violent purple. Their campsite was in the middle of a convenient opening lined by oak trees. The group was scattered about.

Brock was washing plastic plates in a bucket. Dawn sat beside him, drying off the plates with a rag as he finished scrapping them clean.

The blond signaled at them, cigarettes in hand. A trail of smoke followed her wrist.

"They're worried, you know. Dawn looks like she's scared out of her mind." She took a drag out of her cigarette. The ashy end lightened up with each inhale.

"We're all scared." Ritchie continued playing with the minute fire. Sparks flew into the air before fading. "You and me, we got lucky. It's a miracle that we're still alive…

He fell silent for a short moment. "…I think Dawn and Brock are more scared for Ash than they are for themselves."

Roark and Lance stood at the edge of the camp, arguing about something under branches of a tree. They stood away from the rest of them, their voices inaudible. Roark waved his hands back and forth as he spoke. Lance stood, listening with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't really understand what's going to happen." The blonde hugged her knees close. The air was growing cold. "Did Roark and Lance ever tell the police of what happened to us? I can't believe that they held us captive right there, in the stadium! That stadium was just a couple of block away from my apartment…"

"Well, I guess Lance must have told his superiors. If anything, Lance probably was the best person to let know about this … I'm not quite sure if anything can be done about it anymore. The place caved in after the explosion."

From the other side of the camp, emerged Ash, his Pikachu scampering close to his feet. Lance and Roark turned to see who had arrived, reassuming their arguing as soon as the realized it was just the somber figure of Ash.

"Oh, I can't even look at him without feeling bad." She whispered, hanging her head low. She released another long drag, with the air around them with a cloud of smoke.

Ritchie shook his head. "It's not fair that they only took him, but… Sparky isn't in that great of a shape either. I'm not quite sure what to do with him. I don't want to battle him, because I don't know what shape he's in, and every time I try to talk to him I don't know if he's ignoring me or if he's gone deaf! I feel like a shit trainer."

Both cousins remained in silence, watching the small flames crackle.

"I've never tried a cigarette before." Said a voice above them.

Ritchie and Harlow raised their heads up. Ash stood before them, a news paper in his hands. The play of shadow and light created by the fire licked across Ash's pale skin, and underneath his eyes were heavy bags on purple.

The remained silent for a moment.

"Oh!" The blonde girl ripped her eyes away from Ash's face. She pulled out the cigarette pack from her pocket and held it out towards him with shaking hands. "D-do you want one?"

Ash threw a glance at Dawn and Brock. They had finished with the plates and hand moved on to pulling out their sleeping bags.

"I guess… There's no harm in trying it." He picked a cigarette from the pack before he sat down in front of the fire, across from Ritchie and his cousin. Ritchie and the blonde girl shared a quick glance as Ash leaned forwards to light the cigarette.

He pulled back with a jerk, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth as if it had bitten him. He released a billow of smoke, almost doubling over with a violent coughing fit.

"Easy there." Ritchie moved closer to him and patted his back. Ash covered his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Oh! Ok. I'm not sure if I did that right." Ash muttered as soon as he could, his eyes watery. Ritchie's eye widened once he spotted stains of red on Ash's sleeve. His chest twisted with worry, but as soon as he had blinked Ash already hidden his sleeve within his sweaters pocket.

"You know, the first time I had a cigarette in my hand I thought you lit it by holding it over the fire..." Harlow laughed, taking a drag from her own cigarette. "You're doing a pretty good job compared to that."

Ritchie scratched his head, now unsure of what he had seen.

Ash brought the cigarette to his lips, attempting his first drag. He failed to withhold the smoke as it escaped his mouth. He looked very inexperienced, even in the way he held the cigarette.

"You're a bad influence, Harlow." Ritchie told her as she giggled, watching Ash huff away the smoke in frustration. Pikachu had sat beside him, crinkling his nose at the smoke. The rodent turned and scampered away towards Dawn's direction.

"I'll get better." Ash placed the cigarette upon a small rock. He rolled his sleeve backwards, leaving Ritchie unable to spot and stains of red. Grabbing the newspaper again, he passed it to Ritchie before grabbing the cigarette.

"I found this on the path just now. It looks like Jubilife city isn't the only place where a protest took place. The riot there said to spark many other protests in other cities since a lot trainers got killed..."

The girl scooted closer to Ritchie to look at the paper. The picture on the front page was a black and white still of a row of bodies laid out in front of the Jubilife pokemon center, each one covered by black bags.

"This doesn't look good…" She looked away from the paper, and threw the last of her cigarette into the fire.

"Where did you get that paper from?" The three of them snapped their heads, Lance standing before them. Roark stood behind him, a frown upon his face.

"I-I found it in the path, near the route." Ash took it from Ritchie's hand, looking away from Lance's sharp eyes.

"You didn't just find it there on the road; a trainer gave it to you, didn't they?" Lance yanked the paper from Ash's hands, and flipped through it. "You're not going find a news paper in such good conditions just lying in the dirt! For Arceus sake, Ash! What did I tell you?"

"I know! I know! But I just talked to the trainers! They were people just like me! They weren't going to do anything! Besides, we haven't had a single bit of information of what's been going on since we left Oreburgh-"

"Enough." Lance silenced him. He dropped the paper at his feet. "Next time, you'll do what I say _and avoid talking to anybody_. Roark, get Dawn and Brock. I need to say something and everyone must hear."

Ash glared at the fire as they waited during a silent moment. Ritchie and Harlow remained wordless.

"What is it?" Dawn asked once she reached the gathering around the fire, looking up at Lance. She sat besides Ash, offering him a small smile. Ash scrambled to jam the remaining of his cigarette into the dirt, lighting it off before it was spotted by Dawn's eyes.

"So we all know we are in a dangerous situation right now. From what we have figured out, the men who ran the lab beneath the stadium have taken both Ash's and Ritchie's trainer ids. I'm afraid that looking through the pokemon center's database with an id number is the easiest way to track a trainer." Lance began.

"Wait—what do you mean? You're saying that they can track as down each time we go to a pokemon center?" Ritchie asked, concerned.

"I'm afraid so. The pokemon center system can be easily accessed. " Roark explained, stepping besides Lance. "It was made so that every time you go and stay at one, you sign in with your trainer id. Your card keeps a record of your whole training life. It can tell a person how many and which pokemon you have, who you've traded with, every official battle you've ever had, every gym badge you've earned-"

"-And every time you stay at a pokemon center." Lance finished for him. "This means that the moment you speak to nurse Joy and hand over your card in order to get a room or get your pokemon healed, it goes into the records. Every pokemon center has access to these records."

"It's a no-brainer getting into the database. Anybody who works in a pokemon-related business can get in." Roark added.

"So that's how they found us? At the pokemon center?" Ash asked, still glaring at the fire.

Lance stepped to a side, turning away from the group. "It our closest guess. For your safety, I'm afraid that you two shouldn't step foot into pokemon centers until this situation is over."

Roark winced as the group broke out in dismay.

"Everybody, calm down!" Roark urged, managing to somewhat silence the group.

"What does this mean? How will we retrieve our pokemon?" Ash searched Lance for answers.

"Not only that; How are we going to heal our pokemon?" Ritchie cued in.

Brock shook his head. "There must be another way…"

"I'm afraid not. They will find you if you enter a pokemon center! We don't even know what kind of forces we're dealing with here!" Lance's voice was forceful and final. "They came after you, Ash! With heavy artillery! You guys got lucky to make it out alive from the riot."

Lance's shoulders slumped down as he released a heavy sigh. "You kids need to understand the gravity of what's happened. All of you are in grave danger. Ash, you were sick for a week. We still don't know what they did to you."

Ash looked down at the ground. He curled his fists, knuckles turning white. A sense of defeat lingered around him.

Lance continued, softening his voice. "I promised all of you protection. I'm afraid I can only provide it if you _listen_ to me."

His eyes met with Ash's for a moment. Ash looked away, ashamed.

"We going to have put all your plans on hold until this whole thing blows over. Still, I'm terribly sorry you kids got dragged into this."

"So…" Dawn looked unsure. "What are we supposed to do until then?"

"If everything goes as according to plan, we'll separate tomorrow. We will leave you at the League's base near the outskirts of mount Coronet. I can trust that the people there will take care of you until this mess is dealt with. Roark and I will continue on to Celestic town."

Ash coughed violently. He doubled over as if struck in the gut, heaving. Once the fit was over, he breathed in and out heavily.

"Sorry about that…" He muttered, terribly conscious that every eye was watching him. "Lance… What are you going to do in Celestic town?"

Lance stepped back. "I'm afraid I can't divulge that information with you."

"You're not going to be looking into what happened to us. Is that what you're saying?" Ash said. His voice was flat, yet managed to sound accusing in some way.

Lance and Roark both shifted in their spot.

After a short silence, Lance answered. "No. Not quite. There are other matters that I must attend to, which are probably connected to what happened to you kids. I'm doing my best, Ash."

Ash said nothing.

Once the night had descended over the camp, Lance warned them that they would soon be putting out the tiny fire. Ash had gone to linger around the edge of the opening, the tall trunk of the trees looming over him. He leaned his back against the trunk of an oak, observing the rest of the crew from a distance.

Scampering over to meet him, Pikachu greeted him with a small sound before curling up against his leg.

"Hey, buddy…" Ash patted down the fur of his back. Pikachu craned its neck and smelled his hand. He scrunched his nose and turned away.

"Yeah. I know you didn't like the whole cigarette thing. Just don't hate me." Ash offered a half hearted apology, his distracted eyes watching the camp.

"Pikaaa…" Pikachu's usual cheer was absent from its voice.

Ash looked down at his companion. The rodent was looking up at him, beady eyes glossy, and ears flat against its head.

Suddenly, there was a knot in Ash's throat. "Pikachu… I know you're worried. Everyone is. I'm so sick of it."

Ash remained silent, as if expecting Pikachu to answer him. The mouse remained silent.

"I'm sorry, I know they just trying to show concern for me, I just..." He seemed unsure of how to continue. "I just feel like I've been blind all this time, Pikachu. Ever since the tournament, I've never been so terrified Pikachu. I've never seen so much blood. I never knew there could be so much evil. If only you knew all those- those _creatures_ that were down there. They were pokemon just like you. It was so horrible."

"Pikaa… Pikachu." Pikachu jumped onto his lap and squeezed himself against Ash's chest. Ash guessed he was trying to be reassuring.

He continued, knowing that there was no way Pikachu could ever repeat what he was saying. "There's something wrong going on, Pikachu. I can't think straight anymore. I keep asking myself… Was I the first trainer there? Was I the only one who they did things to? Or were there other's before me? What happened to them?"

He found his voice straining. "And Lance… Lance can't do anything about it. Lance is fighting another problem, because there's something more fucked up going on than what happened at the stadium. Everything is _fucked up._"

Pikachu flinched, noticing the sudden aggression in Ash's words. "Pikapi…"

"I can't do this anymore, Pikachu. I can't keep on acting like everything is normal. Something _bad_ is going on. How is it possible that nobody noticed that there was a whole laboratory underneath a stadium? And how can I be so out of it, that I don't even fully understand why there's this sudden uprising of trainers? I can't explain anything anymore. I don't know anything. I'm so useless! I'm so helpless—Pikachu, I feel like I'm drowning and I—and I—"

Ash could no longer continue. He suddenly noticed his erratic breathing, and Pikachu tightly pressed against him despite this. His chest felt as his it would burst at any moment. His throat was so tight that he was afraid that if he swallowed, something from within would rip him open.

His heart beat took a moment to calm. He breathed in slowly, composing himself. Pikachu said nothing, and Ash went back to watching the camp, holding back a heavy feeling in his chest.

Across the opening, Lance sat beside his sleeping bag. It had been set out besides the neat pile of his things. Everything about him seemed perfect in the glow of the fire. Ash felt a sudden spike of envy. Lance easily got them out of the lab mess. Lance always swept in last minute, saved his useless ass. Lance would never be in his place, defenseless and unknowing. A dumb and ignorant trainer.

Ash ran his hands through his hair. He felt the need to pull at the strands.

He watched as Lance pulled something out of his bag, holding it carefully. He wanted to go up to Lance and tell him that they didn't need him. But that was ridiculous. How Ash even get by without a trainer's card, without the ability to even step into a pokemon center?

"I'm so _damn_ useless." He said through gritted teeth. Pikachu shook its small head, but this went unnoticed in Ash's eyes.

Suddenly, there was a change in Lance. Ash was unsure of himself for a moment. Something about Lance's stance, Ash couldn't set his finger on it, but it was as if the eternal air of seriousness hanging about him was suddenly wiped away,

Ash watched as Lance held something wrapped in rags with extreme carefulness, cupping it in his hand. He leaned over it as if to get a better look of it without having to hold it up for everybody to see. As if there was something precious about it.

"Pikachu…" Ash nudged at his companion. "Pikachu… what is Lance doing?"

Pikachu craned it neck to look at the latter and tilted his head, confused. "Pika..?"

Lance eye's had grown wide. For a moment, it looked like Lance was actually… vulnerable.

But the moment ended swiftly as Roark took a step in his direction. Snapped out of his trace-like state, Lance wiped back from the object, and tightened the rags around it. He stuffed it into his bag just as Roark neared him to ask him a question.

Ash and Pikachu stared ahead, still confused.

"What was that all about?" Ash asked, slightly embarrassed, having a feeling that he had just witnessed something he wasn't supposed to.

"Kachu…" Pikachu squeaked, seeming equally confused.

Then, something clicked within Ash. "Pikachu… Do you remember the last time we saw Lance?"

"Pi…" Pikachu nodded, sounding grim. The last time they had seen him was in Hoenn, when they had gotten mixed up in a scuffle between team Aqua and Team Magma over Kyogre and Groudon.

"You remember the red orb? The orb that summoned Groudon, and when you accidently touched it, it was as if you had absorbed it, and had become a part a Groudon?"

Pikachu nodded, shuddering. It hadn't been a pleasurable experience.

"There something about those orbs, Pikachu… They have special properties or something of that sort. Their connected to Legendary pokemon. What if… What if Lance is carrying on of them right now? It makes sense! The last time they sent him out on a mission that wasn't in his district was when there was one of these orbs involved!"

"Pi!" Pikachu added enthusiastically, following his train of thought.

Yes, it made sense now. The object in the rags, the one he couldn't see clearly from the distant was probably an orb! Lance must be protecting it.

"But which orb does he have? I doubt he'd have the red orb here in Sinnoh…" Ash racked his mind. He tried desperately to remember a detail mentioned to him once by Brock. "Brock said… I remember Brock said there were three Orbs in Sinnoh. I think he has one of those. But what does that have to do with the stadium?"

"Pika." Pikachu sounded doubtful.

"You don't think it's related? I'm not sure, but I think Lance said that he was working on something that might have to do with what happened to us. I don't get it."

"Pikachu… Pi."

Ash felt a small turn in his stomach. There was nothing he could do anyways. Lance was taking them to the League base tomorrow, and would continue their mission without them, head out to Celestic only with Roark.

"…Celestic. We've been there before. That where we met…" Again, something clicked within Ash.

"…Professor Newton! Pikachu, I remember the three orbs! They were connected to Palkia, Dialga and Giratina. Who's the only expert of Giratina we know? Professor Newton! Lance is going to see professor Newton!"

"Pika pika!"

"I… I have to go with them. I can't go on like this, not knowing anything. I have to find out what is going on." Ash bit his lip. "Lance probably won't want me to go. No, it's for sure he won't want me to go."

"Pi?"

_So?_

"I guess… We'll have to go on our own. If Lance won't answer anything, maybe Newton might have some answers."

Pikachu pulled away from Ash and squirmed. The rodent shook its head. "Pika, Pikapi! Pikachu…"

"I know you think it's not a good idea, but I can't think of anything else. It's time we do something about this. I've had enough of being a clueless victim." Ash stood up from the tree trunk, Pikachu jumping down onto the grass before him. He threw his companion a determined look. Pikachu suddenly realized how long it had been since he'd seen that look upon his trainer's face.

"We leave tonight."

* * *

The fire was eventually put out by Lance. The crew had tucked themselves into their respective sleeping bags, since there was nothing left to do in the complete darkness.

Ash waited. He didn't know what time it was when he slipped out of his sleeping bag and put his jacket on with the utmost silence. At the foot of his sleeping bag, Pikachu lifted his head, awake and alert.

Everybody else was asleep.

"Let's go." Ash whispered, barely audible. He was terribly aware of every single noise he made in his slow movements. The crunching of twigs underneath his shoes. The sound of his backpack's zipper as he tucked his sleeping bag within it. His own heavy breath.

He kept his eyes on Lance's figure.

_Don't wake up. Don't wake up…_

He had made it into the woods before he released a breath of relief. He quickened his pace, furthering himself from the camp.

"Pika!" The rodent stopped in its track, suddenly swirling around. Its stance grew tense, its small maw growling.

"Pikachu? What is it…" Ash began.

He fell silent as the sound a crunching leaves sounded behind him. He turned as well, searching for the origin of the sound.

"Who's there?" Ash called out. He recognized the sound of footsteps approaching…

Ash looked down at Pikachu, his heart beginning to race. "Pikachu, use thunder-"

"No! No!" A figure stumbled out of the darkness before them. "It's me! It's me! Don't attack!"

"Ritchie?"

Pikachu's tense stance fell away, electricity fizzling.

Ash's nervousness faded away only to replaced moments later by irritation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question!" Ritchie retorted, stepping closer. "I saw you leaving the camp…"

Ash turned and continued on his way. Pikachu looked up at Ritchie, before scampering after his trainer.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't just leave like that!" Ritchie followed closely behind.

Ash gave no reply, instead he continued walking, coughing into the sleeve of his sweater.

"For Mew's sake, Ash! It's dangerous! You don't even have any pokemon, you don't have your id; what the hell are you going to do?" Ritchie attempted to keep his voice low, an urged whisper.

Ash continued coughing, said nothing.

"Ash! Answer me! You can't just leave like that! Look at yourself, your sick!"

"Shut it, Ritchie!" Ash whirled around suddenly, glaring straight into Ritchie's eyes. Ritchie winced at Ash's tone. Ash stared at him a moment, before turning back and continuing walking.

Ritchie remained silent, but Ash could still hear his footsteps behind him.

"Would you mind telling me where we're going?"Ritchie was several paces behind.

"_We_ are not going anywhere. _I _am going to professor Newton's lab."

Ritchie snorted. His arms were crossed before his chest.

"I would only leave you out here alone if I wished for your death. I _will_ be going with you." Ritchie's voice was forceful, but it was as if they had turned down the volume a notch. The forest was very still, very quiet. Any loud sounds might give their positions away to any bad intentioned lurker of the night.

"I thought me sneaking off in the middle of the night was a pretty obvious statement." Ash snarled. He really wanted Ritchie to leave, to go back to the camp they had just left. If Ritchie hadn't spotted him sneaking out of the camping spot, everything would have gone as planned.

Besides, if he died, who would remain with Ritchie? A lone trainer was susceptible to a lot more harm than a group of trainers. If Ash was dead, Ritchie would be alone instead of back at the camp with Lance, Roark and the rest of the group.

Ash reached for a bottle of water in his bag and took a swing to clear the taste of blood in his mouth. He didn't want to think of death.

"I could give less about your so called statements." Ritchie said. Ash could feel his narrow eyes glaring at the back of his head. A moment of silence passed between them, the only sound was that of crunching leaves underneath their shoes.

"Ash, please tell me what is going on. You haven't been yourself lately." Ritchie tone softened. "I mean, look at yourself, sneaking away from us. Were you even planning to come back?

Ash spat at the dirt. "No. And nothing is going on. I'm completely fine. Will you go back to the camp now?"

"Don't give me that bullshit! You know something is wrong. You've been this way for the last week. Come on, I just want to help."

"Look, nothing is wrong. I just don't want to be with Lance and Roark anymore. They aren't telling us anything. We've been in these woods for days, but something is going on in the towns and cities. Lance isn't telling us anything! It's like he's trying to filter that stuff from us, and I've had enough."

"Lance hasn't said anything to you because you've been acting weird. It's like you irritated with us or something. You've changed!"

"But he hasn't said anything to you either, right? And sure, I might have _changed, _but everything is changing! I need to know why. I was out for a week and suddenly riots and protests are breaking out everywhere. And I nearly got killed too. Twice! So don't tell me about bullshit, I've had plenty."

Ritchie didn't say anything, and Ash wondered for a moment if he had turned and headed back, offended.

"Ash…I'm sorry, but I just want to help. We just want to know what's wrong. I wouldn't even expect this from you. Please, just tell me what happened."

"What happened?" Ash tried his best to retrain his frustration. "Really, Ritchie? Well, I think some sick son of a bitch cutting me up might have something to do with it. And I feel sick, so sick. Sick that I can't do anything. Sick that I'm so _fucking _helpless. I have to do something, I can't just rot away while this fucked up shit is going on."

"And wandering alone is going to make you feel better, huh?" Ritchie was having a hard time keeping sarcasm to out of his voice. "Fine. Go ahead. Go get yourself killed! Go ahead and leave and leave us to worry about you, for all I know you don't give a shit about anyone else except for yourself anymore-"

Ash whirled around, Ritchie coming to an abrupt stop to not crash into him.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He seethed, teeth gritted. "Don't call me selfish-"

Ash choked. In a sudden movement, he doubled forwards, clutching his abdomen. Ritchie took a step back, for a moment believing that Ash was going to strike out at him.

Instead, a suffocated sound of pain escaped him. Falling to his knees, Ash coughed violently, shoulders heaving up and down. Splotches of blood splashed upon the dirt and the tree trunk he leaned against for support. He brought his hand to his mouth, attempting to keep the blood in his mouth from escaping, but he failed, the blood dripping to the ground.

Ash slumped against a tree trunk for support.

"Oh Mew, Ash!" Ritchie hurried beside him, their previous argument out of the window. He placed his hand on Ash's trembling back. "Ash, are you ok-"

Ash whirled around and slapped Ritchie's palm off of him.

"Don't!" He coughed some more, now clutching his chest. He eyes were screwed tight, deep raspy breaths escaping him.

"Ash! Arceus, this is blood!" Ritchie spotted the crimson that stained his hand as Ash had slapped it away. "You're bleeding! Please Ash! This is enough! You need help! Let me help you!"

Ash coughed one last time, and managed to shake his head. "You can't help me, Ritchie!" A knot was somewhere down his throat, making it difficult to speak. "I'm dying Ritchie. I'm dying."

Ritchie doubled back, blinking several times. "What do you mean you're dying?"

Ash nodded, recovering from the violent coughing fit. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, an extreme exhaustion taking over him. It was as if he were gripping that tree trunk for dear life.

"I can feel it, Ritchie." He wiped the blood that dribbled down his chin. "It's like they put something inside me, and it's growing and it's going to kill me. Its poison, I know it is."

"Ash, no, no!" Ritchie kneeled besides him, placing again his hand on Ash's shoulder. "You're going to be ok! Just please, come to the camp, Lance will probably be able to fix you-"

"There's no fixing it." To Ritchie's surprise, Ash attempted to stand up. "I've been spitting out blood all week. And when I don't cough, it comes from my nose or my ears. At night, my eyes start bleeding, like bleeding tears, and I feel so sick, so sick…"

Ash slid back to the ground, the trunk slipping from his grasp. His worried Pikachu squealed, unsure of what to do.

Ritchie grasped his arms, pulling him up.

He brought Ash's arm over his shoulder, watching him with careful eyes. "And you were planning to leave like this?"

Ash pulled himself away, stumbling a few feet. He placed a hand upon the tree, regaining his balance.

"If I stay, and I die there, I'll die uselessly. I wouldn't have a meaning."

"Useless? And how do you plan on doing anything useful out in the woods, sick?"

Ash plucked the dropped bottle of water from the ground, taking a swing and spitting again. "I am going to professor Newton's lab to get the griseous orb. I think that is what Lance and Roark are after."

"…Wait, what is the Griseous orb?" Ritchie stared at him with questioning eyes.

He sighed, part because of exhaustion, partly because he wished Ritchie we back at the camp, safe with Lance and Roark. "Yes, the griseous orb. Here in Sinnoh, there is said to be three legendary orbs that are linked to the three Sinnoh deities: Palkia, Dialga, and Giratina."

Ash threw Ritchie a look. The latter just nodded for him to continue. "I think Lance already has one of the three. I've seen him, taking out something wrapped in rags in the middle of the night. He doesn't do anything; he just stares at it, and then puts it away. Last I heard, the Adamant orb was at the Eterna museum, and since we're not heading there, he must be going after the Griseous orb."

"Near Celestic town? Why would it be there?"

"Because professor Newton's lab is there. He does research on the reverse world. And the reverse world means Giratina, and Giratina means... the Griseous orb."

They were silent again. The woods were beginning to clear, and the camp was now a considerable distance away. It was too late for Ritchie to go back alone.

Ash sighed. "Ritchie… I'm sorry I'm being a dick. I just don't want to—want to – d-die and not have helped in anyway."

Ritchie crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "Stop being such a martyr. You're not going to die. You're just sick and Lance can probably help you."

"Ritchie, please." Ash continued walking, feeling as if a weight as upon him. "You can come with me, but please, don't try to stop me."

* * *

Lance was pacing back and forth, similar to a caged pokemon. Dawn and Ritchie's cousin, Harlow, sat together at the other edge of the opening, slightly worried that he would break out into hysterics at any moment.

Roark stood besides what remained of last night's campfire, dialing away on his Pokétch.

There was movement from the bushes, and then Brock stumbled out, looking disheveled.

"I couldn't find them. I lost their trail once they went deeper into the woods." Brock scratched his head, looking down at the ground. Roark sighed in exasperation and brought his Pokétch away from his ear.

"Ritchie isn't answering his Pokétch either."

Lance stopped his pacing, his back facing them. It could have seemed that his wide frame was shaking with anger, but then again, he turned around, looking composed once more.

"Idiots." He said, and then he fetched his travel bag from the ground. "If they assumed they'd be ok on their own, then they are real _idiots_. And there's no way anybody could have come and taken them, so we know they left by their own will."

The blond girl at Dawn's side tried to suffocate a feeling of abandonment in his chest. "Are you sure they just left for no reason? I'm sure my cousin wouldn't leave me for any reason…"

"If they had any reason, it's beyond me." Lance answered, and signaled the group to follow him. "We have to move, we can't wait for them anymore, and it's getting late. I must arrive to Celestic soon."

Roark put a reassuring hand upon Harlow's shoulder as she stood from the ground to follow Lance. "If Ash and Ritchie went anywhere, I'm sure it was to Celestic. It's the nearest town and we'll probably find them there."

They gathered their bags, and left the opening. Soon they reached a beat up path, their feet lifting up clouds of dirt with every step they took. Nobody uttered a word, until Lance came to a stop.

"Brock!" He called. "I'd like you to take this with you."

In his hand, he held a blue and red minimized pokeball.

"A great ball?" Brock reached forwards to grab it.

"No. This is my Aerodactyl."

Brock pulled his hand away as if stinged. "I can't take your pokemon!"

"You have to, Brock. Or else I'll worry too much. Ash and Ritchie have already caused me enough trouble by leaving, but at least if you have my Aerodactyl, it's as if there's a part of me protecting you even when I won't be there."

He grabbed Brock's hand and placed the pokeball in his palm.

"Wait, wait." The blonde girl rubbed her eyes, exhausted. She sounded exasperated. "What do you mean by 'when I'm not there'?"

Lance brought his sharp eyes to look at her.

"I'm leaving," He said. "We must part ways right now." Lance pointed down the path, to where it divided into two and took different directions.

"What?" Harlow felt something curl in her stomach. Her face twisted with worry. Behind her, Dawn also stared, confused.

"If you leave us here, what are we supposed to do?" Dawn bit her nails. She took a step closer to Brock, glancing at the pokeball. "Isn't it dangerous for us? Weren't you going to leave us at the League base?"

Roark shook his head. "If anybody is looking for someone, their looking for Ash or Ritchie. I think you guys should be ok, but…" He threw Lance a questioning look. "I think it's not safe to just abandon them here, Lance."

"No, not at all. The Leagues' base is near; we're close to mount coronet. It's not far from here."

"You can't just send us away!" Harlow gritted her teeth, having difficulty keeping her voice down. "Who do you think you are? You can't just assume we'll go and hide just because you think we're holding you back!"

Lance watched her, unfazed. "Don't be ridiculous. You kids already got mixed up with some bad people, people that didn't hesitate to hurt you. If anything, I don't want you kids to be in anymore trouble, before anything worse happens."

She narrowed her lily eyes, her knuckled growing white as she clenched her fists into balls. Behind Harlow, Dawn tentatively placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Harlow, I think Lance's right. We'll be safe at the league, and we like having you around, if that's what you're worried about."

The blond girl softened her eyes, and gently slipped Dawn's hand off. She turned to look at her, pained. "Dawn, it's not that. It's Ritchie. I have to look for him. He's all I got. He's my only real family."

Dawn kept her gaze for another moment, before giving her an understanding nod and backing away.

Lance turned to Roark, his patience beginning to wither. "Roark, if you are coming, we must leave now."

He pulled a beat looking paper from his jacket and handed it to Brock.

"That's a map that will lead you to the League's base. Aerodactyl will obey all of you, if you ever need to use him. And if they don't want to let you into the base, tell them that I sent you there, and show them Aerodactyl as proof if necessary."

With that he wheeled around and began to make his way down the path that travelled right.

"If you absolutely deny going to the league's base, then please come with us." He called, without turning. Harlow nodded, and turned to Brock and Dawn.

"Thank you so much for everything. I hope we'll see each other again." She threw herself at Dawn and embraced her, before doing the same with Brock.

"Please, bring them back." Dawn whispered urgently, tugging at her hand. "Bring Ash and Ritchie back."

Harlow nodded, her confidence wearing away. Behind her, Roark waved.

"Dawn. Brock. See you later." He turned at Harlow. "Let's go. We mustn't fall behind."

They broke into a sprint, going to the right and after Lance, who was already a considerable distance away.

Brock and Dawn remained still for a moment, watching their running figures as they became smaller with the distance.

* * *

The view of the ranch appeared before Ash and Ritchie. Ash had lead the way from what he could recall, and after a number of hours, they reached the path that lead to the entrance.

Ash stopped, Pikachu and Ritchie right behind him. "The gate…"

At the entrance a sign read:

'THE GRACELAND SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH FACILITY.' Underneath, in a smaller print where the words 'PLEASE RING THE BELL'.

The only problem was that the metal gate had been broken away from its hinges, the entrance left wide open. The gate lay on the floor, as if tossed aside. Even the ringer was smashed.

"Ash…" Ritchie stepped besides him. "I think somebody beat us to it."

Ash gulped. "We… We have to go inside. The professor… could be in danger."

"What if they're still in there?" Ritchie looked at the ranch. Besides the destroyed gate, it looked undisturbed. The sunlight shined above them, and the sounds of chirping pokemon from the trees around them filled the air.

Yet, a sense of dread filled the three of them as the stood before the gate, unsure of what to do.

"Ritchie… Maybe I should go alone, you can stay out here-"

"No." Ritchie shook his head, and walked through the gate. He turned and threw Ash a look. "Aren't you coming? We're going in together."

They approached the front porch. Before them, the door was slightly off its hinges, left agape.

"The door…" Ash whispered. "We have to be very quiet. They broke in."

They slipped inside.

"Come on." He motioned at Ritchie to follow. They were inside a wide living room, a hallway at the right leading further into the house. The room had various couches of warm brown colors here and there, and various fossil-like decorations were hung amongst the wall. Some of them were broken or smashed, scattered around the floor. The couches had been pushed into awkward positions.

"I think there was a struggle here." Ritchie noticed. "Do you think the professor is alright?"

"I don't know." Ash was careful to avoid the broken ornaments. Pikachu crawled up his back to avoid shards getting into his paws.

The reached the hall, which was empty as well. At the end of the hall were two doors and an office like space, which was also, left a mess.

Ash walked towards a desk that lay sideways. Papers were thrown about, torn and a scattered among the floor. He leaned over and picked up a paper.

"_The laws of physics within the Reverse world."_ He read out the title from the paper, and dropped it to the ground again. "The Griseous orb has to be here somewhere. I think somebody came to look for it before we got here."

The sound of laughter floated into the room from behind one of the closed doors.

Ritchie's and Ash's eyes met, before they threw themselves behind the tipped over desk to hide. They both peeked over the desk.

The door opened, and two men in white and grey uniforms emerged from the room. Upon their chest, a yellow emblem that Ash recognized was plastered upon their chest. They were stained with blood up to their elbows.

"Fucking old man." One of the men sneered. "He wouldn't fucking talk."

He wiped his blood stained hands off his pants. Ritchie sunk down the desk's surface and looked away, his head swimming at the sight of blood. Ash's eyes remained glued on the crimson stains.

"Well at least we left a clear message. We shouldn't be messed with." The other said, and they both travelled out the other door, which lead into the lab. "Let's go before Harold gets pissed off that we took so long."

"Nah, he won't get pissed. We left a masterpiece on the wall." And with that, their voices faded behind the closing door, leaving Ash and Ritchie in the silence.

Ritchie looked at Ash, horrified. "Was that blood on their arms? Was that _blood?_"

Ash could barely even breathe. "Ritchie, he said _Harold_."

"Harold?"

"T-The guy at the pokemon center! With the gun! Arceus, they can't know I'm here!" Ash hissed at Ritchie in a panicked whisper. His body seemed to lock, and he grew pale. Pikachu ears were pressed flat against its head, looking up at it trainer.

"Ok. Ok. Calm down." Ritchie dragged his hand across his face, trying to ignore the image of the blood stained men that was burning in his head.

Ash gulped and gave Ritchie a stiff nod. "What do we do?"

"I think—I think we can't do anything. Let's get out, wait for Lance and Roark. This wasn't a good idea. Let's go."

They slowly arose to their feet as to not be heard, and made their way back to the hallway. Ash couldn't help but to feel as if all of his senses had been heightened, every sound clearer, and he grew aware of every single broken shard on the floor that needed to be avoided.

They were almost out, the front door in their view. To Ash's left there was a window opened towards all the land of the ranch.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted an ominous dark figure out the window. It stood several meters tall and wide. It seemed made out of metal and scales, and had a maw full of what looked like knives instead of teeth. Its red eyes weren't looking directly into the window.

His heart gave a leap, stopping him in place, "Arceus… what is that?"

A pokemon, perhaps..?

"Hey!" A voice called from behind them. They spun around, the bloodied uniforms standing at the laboratories door.

There was brief moment where they just stood there, looking at each other.

The men burst into a run, towards them. Ash and Ritchie bolted for the door, the two men close behind.

Ritchie was just at the door frame when Ash felt a violent tug to his sweater. The grunt hurled him away from the door with a handful of fabric. Ash lost his footing and landed on the floor with a grunt, Pikachu jumping off his shoulder.

Ritchie turned to see Ash, but the other grunt had already reached him. He delivered a massive punch to Ritchie face, sending him toppling to the floor.

Pikachu began sizzling with electricity, growling at the grunt the stood over Ash. His trainer was crumpled over in another violent coughing fit.

The grunt swung around and pulled a hand gun, aiming it at the rodent.

"No!" Ash choked, but failed to get up, crippled by dry hacks. Blood spluttered from his mouth onto the wooden floor.

Staring at each other intensely, man and rodent remain still for a moment, trying to predict each other's next move. The grunt kept the gun aimed for a moment, before moving it to the side and aiming it at the trainer instead.

"No funny business." He warned the uneasy pikachu, which fell away from its attack ready stance. "I'll kill your trainer! Stop the electricity!"

"Pikapi!" The small sparks and bolts coming from Pikachu's fur ceased, ears now pressed backwards in worry.

"Pikachu! Run! Go!" Ash begged from behind the grunt, recovering from the coughing fit. He looked into the rodent's confused eyes, pleading. "Go! Leave! I can't heal you! Go now!"

The pokemon's eyes remained glued to its trainer for another moment of hesitation, before he dashed sideways towards the door. The grunt began firing his gun after it, everybody flinching, but the rodent was swift enough to avoid the bullets. Pikachu dashed through the unhinged door and was gone.

"Fucking moron!" The other grunt shouted, angered. "You almost shot me!"

* * *

Hands tied behind their backs with the cables from the houses appliances, Ritchie and Ash were shoved past the hallways and into the laboratories. Here, several other men were tearing through the different machines and desks, searching.

"What the fuck is this?" Ash instantly recognized the thick red-headed man. He felt his heart beginning to pump harder. Harold spotted the two grunts bringing in the trainers.

Across his chest, a gun similar to the gun he had the day of the riot. Ash looked down at his feet, hair cascading over his forehead in attempt to stay unrecognized.

Harold approached them, taking the riffle in hand.

"Where did these pricks come from?" He snarled, jabbing Ritchie with the tip of the gun.

"We found them wandering in the house, sir." The grunt's eyes wandered, intimidated. "We thought they might know where the orbs were."

Harold dropped the gun, and took a better look at the trainers. His eyes widened.

"Wait a minute…" He stepped closer to Ash and grabbed his jaw, forcing his head up. A draining sensation of dread spread across Ash, recognition dawning upon Harold's face.

"It's the _fucking_ kid!" Harold released his jaw, as if tossing it aside. He let out a short disbelieving laugh. "Like a bitch, you came to us! We didn't even have to go looking!"

He turned around slowly, scanning the room. The other grunts had stopped their search to see what was going on.

"Don't just stand there! Keep going!" Harold barked out, furious. The grunts scrambled back to their jobs. "Somebody go to the computers and get Hydra over here!"

Without warning, Harold swirled around and delivered a dizzying back hand across Ash's cheek. Ash stumbled aside, seeing spots of white across his vision. The grunt behind him grasped his arms, keeping him from falling and holding him in place. Again, Harold delivered another blow with the exact same force, sending him staggering in the other direction.

"Son of a bitch! My job was on the line because of your sorry ass. _Twice!_" He growled, rubbing his knuckles for a short moment. Ash eyes were squeezed closed, his head spinning from the heavy blows.

Harold cracked his knuckles and landed another punch, this time to Ash's stomach. The impact sent the air out of Ash's lungs. He doubled forwards and gasped.

"And that was for my partner." Harold snickered, feeling slightly avenged. "You left him paralyzed, you mother fucker!"

Ash heaved himself upwards and spat a mouthful of blood at Harold's face. The man remained still for a moment with an expression of disgust, caught by surprise. They looked each other straight, Ash eyes widening; suddenly unsure of what he had just done.

"You piece of shit!" Enraged, Harold grasped Ash by the shoulder and threw him forwards, face-first into the ground. He wiped the blood hastily off his face with his hands, and grabbed the riffle again.

"That's it, motherfucker!" He cocked the gun and aimed it straight down at Ash's head. "I'm gunna fucking kill you! I'm gunna send you straight to hell, you piece of shit!"

Ash feared the worst, panic sweeping over him, yet, he couldn't bring himself to even move. Heart racing at a million miles per hour and his breath now unsteady, Ash closed his eyes and braced himself.

"This is it! Say goodbye-!"

"_Harold_!" A voice from across the room bellowed, silencing the red-headed man. The lunatic, Doctor Hydra, stood at the door at the other end. The older man's face was contorted into one wide smile, one the sent a shiver down the backs of every sane person in the room.

"Are going to do what I think you're going to do?" The old man approached slowly from the other side of his room, a slight skip in his step and his hands behind his back.

Harold took a step back, no longer aiming at Ash's head. Ash immediately felt disbelieving relief, momentarily releasing the breath he was holding.

"What do you mean, sir?" Harold tone changed completely, almost even polite, as he watched Hydra stepped closer.

The old man stretched out his foot and poked the riffle his Harold hands with the tip of his toes. Ash, a few steps away, struggled up onto his knees.

"Were you… Were you _going to kill him_?" Hydra asked, almost laughing, as if it were a joke.

"No, Sir." Harold said.

The old man suddenly burst forwards, as if aiming to attack Harold. The red-head back sprung back, making a sound of surprise. The scientist took a strange, defensive-like pose.

"I thought so." Hydra's raspy voice sounded more like a snarl, before he seamlessly went back into his normal stance. "You would have been more of an idiot than I estimated you were if that was your plan."

Harold looked at the old man, slightly stunned, before swallowing any kind of embarrassment swelling from within him.

"Well, let's take a look…" The scientist kneeled beside the struggling Ash, a forceful hand pushing him back into a sitting position. Reaching behind Ash, Hydra slipped of the cables that tied his hands. Ash coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Hydra reached forwards as if to touch Ash's face.

Ash immediately slapped the old wrinkly away and struggled backwards.

"Hold him still!" Harold ordered.

"Don't – Don't fucking touch me!" Ash contorted around, trying to escape the grasp of the grunts behind him. Two men each grabbed one of his arms tightly, twisting them back until he was immobilized.

"Hmm…" Hydra stood up again, rubbing his chin. He watched Ash closely, and said, "Did you hit him very hard, Harold?"

Harold shook his head, holding the riffle tightly. "No, sir, I just slapped him around."

Ash suddenly felt something warm trickling his neck.

The old man grinned wide. "He's bleeding from his ears, Harold ! And unless you hit him very, _very_ hard, that means something! Do you know what that means?"

"What did you do to me!" Ash howled, still trying to twist away with no avail. "What did you do to me, you son of a bitch?"

Ignoring the screams and struggle, Hydra looked at Harold, awaiting his answer.

"Uh – It means it worked..?" Harold seemed unsure.

"Yes!" Hydra exclaimed, pulling his lab coat open. On the inside part of the coat, rows of injections were in place, slipped into tiny loops of fabric. For a moment, Ash connected the image to himself, and his collection of gym badges. He felt faint.

"Now, Now, boy. I have a gift for you!" The scientist chose out an injection and retrieved a small rubber chord from his pocket.

The grunt that held his right arm stretched it out for the scientist to tie the chord around. Ash felt so much dread, felt as if the whole thing that happened underneath the stadium was happening again.

_Lance was right, I should have listened! I'm way in over my head!_

"No!" Ash still struggled, and from the corner of his eyes, he spotted Ritchie struggling against the grunt that held him back. His arms felt as if they were about to snap. "No! Fuck you!"

The syringe plunged into the vein of his arm, and suddenly, the part around the prick was followed by a ticklish sensation. His arm was falling asleep!

"Ngh! No!' Ash watched in panic as Hydra pressed the plunger, the semitransparent liquid within the needle sweeping into his arm.

"This will make you feel… real good." The old man laughed, pulling the needle out.

A warm sensation swept over Ash, and his eye lids grew too heavy to keep open. He felt the grunts fall away from his side, and his back collided with the tile floor without pain. It felt more like the floor had tilted upwards to meet with his back. A drowsiness and heaviness was forced upon him, and Ash could no longer move.

"What did you do to him? Stop! Let us go!" Ash could still hear Ritchie's panic, yet it seemed so far… so far away.

* * *

KO! Anyways... Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks!


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